


To Fight For

by blankdblank



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Battle, Battle of Five Armies, Forgiveness, Mistakes, clan feud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 06:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blankdblank/pseuds/blankdblank
Summary: On the way to his throne Thorin discovers the presumed dead woman he was betrothed to years before the fall of Erebor is alive. In his tries to win her heart old wounds are opened and a lifelong feud is brought back to life. Will the King win his Queen? And more importantly, will they live to see their wedding day?





	1. Chapter 1

“Come with me.” Silvery blue eyes locked onto your mother’s deep purple pair from the Elf Lord who had befriended and fallen helplessly for her decades past in his travels.

Orcarni had been her home, the Hobbitess former Queen of the Blacklocks for nearly forty years. Formerly from a Hobbiton nearby where Buarndur had wandered into her path and fallen hard for her, Four sons and twenty years later and you were born with a pair of twin brothers not long after. Early on in an alliance with another King, the distant Thror of the Lonely Mountain from the line of Durin, your hand had been bartered for, you were considerably younger than the youngest heir, Thorin, however when he was old enough to marry in your half Hobbit aging you would be mature enough to conceive making it a good match. Prince and Princess set to marry only adding to Thror’s faith that his line would remain unbroken.

War was called for and honoring their alliance Buarndur led his troops with four sons behind him, confident he would return before his youngest pair would take their first steps. Confidence is nothing, however, compared to the endless sea of orcs and goblins they faced spewing out of Moria. A dragon had stolen Erebor and hoping to aid his fallen comrade your father marched, and subsequently fell alongside your elder brothers on the battle field not far from Thror. For all that war had stolen from so many it should have ended there, but not quite, those returning from the Ironfist clans turned their eyes to the Sonless lands your father had left to you and your brothers. Battle was brewing within your circle of mountains and sensing the loss of the woman he loved an offer was made.

A simple upturned palm was accepted and the Elven aids he brought with him helped to pack up everything and under the cover of darkness all that could be taken was. Behind you a great number of fatherless clans knowingly near being stripped of all they had, your destination Rivendell. Through the open gates Lord Maglor led your people with you in his arms as your brothers rested in a basket on the wagon your mother was riding packed as full as imaginable. His grin from sharing the ending to the Elven tale spread when he spotted his curious adopted son entering the courtyard from a tall archway. Bowing their heads to one another with hands moving from their chests to their sides Lord Elrond greeted him, _“Maglor, it has been quite some time.”_

Maglor’s smile spread as Elrond flashed you a weak smile seeing your hand gripping the long shining black curls held in an intricate Elven braid you had added some of your handmade clay lopsided beads through it, _“Yes. My last visit here you offered me rule of the Southern stretch of this cavern.”_ His eyes scanning over your dark black curls pulled halfway back over short tapering sideburns below your leaf shaped ears, with wide purple eyes and a stoic expression seeming far too adorable for words by Elven standards all but making him reach out to claim you.

Elrond nodded his head, _“Yes, I did. You have come to claim it then?”_

He nodded his head, _“Yes. I aim to take up my formerly shirked title of King so my little Jaqiearae will remain a Princess and her Mother Jewelia rightfully as Queen with two young Princes as her heirs.”_

Elrond’s lips parted for a moment taking that all in before he looked to your mother and bowed his head, “Queen Jewelia, welcome to Rivendell. Until your new home is built we will do all we can to accommodate you and your people.”

His eyes scanned back to you again with a cracking smile covering his face at your forced tick of a smile after you bowed your head to him, softly greeting him, “Thank you, Lord Elrond.”

Maglor leaned in kissing you on the forehead then said, “As my adopted son he is your brother, no titles are necessary.”

You nodded and tried to keep smiling only to have a tear roll down your cheek remembering your other brothers and father urging Maglor to hold you tightly, silently accepting your understandable pain in this new agreement, while Elrond said, “I will show you to your quarters, so you might rest while we prepare a meal.” Turning as Maglor softly consoled you on the path to your room, informing you to take as long as you needed to grant whatever titles you were comfortable with. There he left you to your mother’s care to be changed and claimed hold of your infant brothers allowing her a break from watching them in his path to speak with Elrond.

 _“All this time, and now you show up with an army of women and children, more livestock and wagons than I can count while wishing to suddenly be King!”_ Maglor raised a brow as one of the boys grumbled then settled in his calming bounce making Elrond sigh, _“I am not objecting, however, it will be lovely to have an explanation.”_

 _“Jewelia’s husband and four eldest sons fell in the battle at Moria not a month’s past.”_ Making Elrond’s mouth fall open, _“Upon word of their death the Ironfist clan turned their eyes to the Blacklock’s lands. They have no army and surely they would be slaughtered, and stripped of all their titles and possessions had they survived, I offered marriage to protect her and her children and all of their people. You have protected those lands you set aside for me nearly an age now, I have come to claim them and the title my father left me. Surely Celeborn and Thranduil will see reason and not take it as a challenge.”_

Elrond nodded and eyed the younger of the pair in his father’s arms, _“They would not. An alliance with the Dwarves would be a shock for some, but none would assume a call to arms.”_

Maglor stepped forward easing the boy into Elrond’s arm stirring a grin onto his face locking his eyes with the boy’s bright green pair making Maglor’s smirk spread, _“It will take some work. Though a majority of those with us are half if not whole Hobbit, greatly easing any tension and adding to the future little ones sprinting through our lands again.”_

Elrond nodded after leaning in to kiss the boy’s forehead, _“That is always a welcome thought. Anything else?”_

Maglor nodded, _“Yes, I was wondering if you would do the honors of marrying us.”_ Elrond’s eyes shot up to his father’s, _“Or I could ask Celeborn if you would prefer to watch.”_

 _“I would be honored.”_ He wet his lips, _“I do have to ask-,”_

 _“I am aware my feelings are not returned. This will be out of protection_.” His eyes locked with Elrond’s, _“Though I would be lying if I said I did not hope a fondness would grow between us in time.”_ Earning a nod from Elrond who turned to find his sons dangling from a tree branch from their knees waiting to be introduced to the boys they were making faces at stirring coos and giggles from them.

Maglor grinned, _“Boys, meet Borris and Morris, your Uncles. Your Aunt Jaqiearae should be out shortly along with their Naneth Jewelia.”_

Smiles spread and your people were shown the Southern portion of the cavern once they were full, the carvers among them eager to get started. Plans had been drafted to Maglor’s approval and the peaks and cliff walls were ready to be marked out and construction began, even to their shock including a water garden as a memorial to your kin. Soon enough word spread through all Elven kingdoms of the new King, to which every available Lord and Lady alike came to pay their respects to him and to your kin welcoming you among them.

Thranduil especially came and for all his efforts to remain stoic and aloof a simple tug on his robe brought his eyes downward while the Lords were greeting one another, _“King Maglor.”_

Maglor’s grin returned as he stated, “Thranduil, this my daughter, Princess Jaqiearae.”

In your small fingers the folded deer you had made for the King was extended towards his fingers way out of your reach still bringing him to crouch and accept it with a gentle smile towards you, “Ada Maglor says you like Elk.”

“Thank you, I will treasure it always, Princess.”

You nodded and then brought an apple form your deep pocket on your apron you had neglected to take off after your painting with Lord Glorfindel earlier, “Could I give this to your Elk?”

Thranduil nodded, “Yes, he would appreciate the gift greatly.” He rose motioning his hand to Legolas who stepped forward, “My son Legolas will show you to him.” You nodded and moved closer taking the end of his outer shirt in hand with a gentle tug earning a chuckle from him at your eagerness leaving him soon out of sight off to the stables.

Turning back to Maglor his eyes shifted onto your mother, to whom he bowed his head with his hand across his chest, “Queen Jewelia, I am grateful to see you so comfortable and protected along with your little ones after all you have endured. Please know you and your kin are always welcome in my lands should you require them.”

She bowed her head in return, “Thank you, King Thranduil.”

..

A ceremony later your kin began to deepen their bonds with the curious and partially stunned Elves visiting who found them so unlike all they had heard of Dwarves before soon gaining more aid in the build.

Over time through hundreds of lessons and hours in training you had grown into a fine swordsman and were nearly unrivaled with a bow of all your kin who had trained with the Elves. Once out of convenience your parents now had a much enviable relationship you sought to find one day for yourself, proud loving pair with four more daughters and a son after your younger brothers, all looking up to you as their elder sister, whom they wished to grow to your prowess one day.

.

Barely to thirty you had joined along to a border enforcement alongside your nephews and Glorfindel out in Lothlorien. However an orc horn sounded and in the flurry of capes, armor and shields you found yourself somehow outside the gates of Moria.

Deep within you your Dwarven side kicked in with all your Dwarven kin behind you charging towards the open gate taking the advantage while the numbers not attacking the Elves had been sent out a week prior off to Gondor. Once inside you tore apart the forces before you while the Elves poured in after you following your nephew’s shouts for you soon joined by an unexpected legion from Greenwood.

A loud roar halted all of you however until the goblins fled the open halls opposite you out another exit free from the Elves. Wide eyed again you stood staring at the nearing Balrog unable to hear anything but the pounding of your heart. A final set of steps almost drew another roar only for its eyes to drop to you, alone formerly in a sea of goblins nearly twenty feet from your realigning forces behind you calling out for you in Khuzdul.

From bright red to a deep blue lightening greatly its eyes shifted while it growled out, _“Perian.”_ In a scan over the forces, including the Elves passing the Dwarves to form lines around you it turned to the goblins inhaled deeply and let out a massive burst of flames through its open jaws following the fleeing forces. Slackly your arms lowered and your head turned to find Thranduil crouching beside you meeting your confused gaze with one of concern. A tick of his brow came at your asking, “What did it say?”

“ _Perian_ , it means Haffling.”

Blankly you nodded then looked back to the hall hearing its returning in a calmer stride it had left in, once again looking over your forces to stop on you rumbling again contently, _“Perian.”_ Lowering to all fours its body shifted into a great green shaggy mountain goat wagging its tail in its trot to you and the now upright Elf King at your side. Reaching its snout around you it bumped you both ahead as it began to rant about the former farming peaks enchanted to let the sunlight in, all in Ancient Elvish. Lowering their weapons dumbfounded the forces followed you finding that any orc forces still hiding were wiped out by burst of flames from between its heavily bearded and fur coated jaws braided and swaying around its body laced with random bursts of flowers.

Word had spread through the Elven lands and once the keep had been secured doorways linking Rivendell and Lothlorien had been discovered aiding in its shift, under your decision, into a mixture of your kins’ lands. Treasures long since lost from all cultures were found, restored as best you could and set on display for all to see while markets and shops were set up around a few inns for those traveling between. The once barren farming peaks had been tilled and were now flourishing under the aid of the young Hobbits who cherished the abandoned Hobbiton in the Southern farming peaks now repaired and filled with their own careful nick knacks and crafted items around cherished keepsakes from lost relatives.

All this under your care, as whenever Maglor had been shown inside the giant goat Maiar, bleated angrily until Maglor caught on that he wished for you to rule these lands. It seemed that by the runes glowing around its horns under the bright moonlight Yavanna’s marks could be seen clearly revealing that in the digging that had stirred its waking he had yearned for the healing care Hobbits brought to return it beyond its former glory from the days of Durin.

A painful decision was turning over the peak, once a mithril source for all, into a booming land of plenty with food enough to send out to a great number of allies in their rough times of war. Something the Durins would most likely see to end quickly returning the Balrog to its former angry state and doom them all, earning your silence on passing the lands back again to the heirs of its crafting for their protection and that of those under your rule. Your kin would not be turned out once again, you would see to it never again they would have to begin from nothing after all a Mad King had cost you.

…

Sixty five years had come and gone for the fallen Dwarf Prince, finally with a small band of Dwarves under his charge he was now nearly halfway to the distant peak he once called home. Thunderously they raced through the open plains away from the group of orc and wargs. Atop a dark mountain goat you raced alongside the tall horses bearing the Elves.

The odd addition to the line almost making them pause only to spot your clan’s crest across your back under your long braids swaying across it while you circled them widely taking out the few distant warg left. A single glance was all it took and his mouth fell open, the proud stoic face with long dark curls bound back in beaded braids exposing your tapering sideburns framing your face perfectly, and at a glint of sunlight hitting them the most breathtaking purple eyes revealing at once who you were.

His Princess, the one he was bound to for all these years, the one he was told without a doubt fell in the usurping of the Blacklock lands. Behind Gandalf he followed the others into the hidden entrance tearing his eyes away from their chance to steal any more details of your figure or strength past archery off in the distance. Glumly he strode into the Elven lands hoping that once the formalities were through he could uncover a chance to speak with you regarding your former agreement now all the more agreeable to him now that you are fully grown in his claim for the stone.

In the open courtyard in the circle of horses their eyes followed the mountain goat in a wider path of its own stopping by Lindir’s side. Softly you spoke to him in Elvish, _“Where are Mo and Bo?”_

Weakly he chuckled stating, _“Off with your nephews in search of the biggest fish in our streams.”_

You nodded then looked ahead as Elrond’s welcome was met coldly, “Funny. I do not recall him mentioning you.”

Instantly your eyes twitched narrower slightly before expanding at Elrond’s glance your way to address the servants beyond you to prepare a meal for them. Gloin broke the silence, “Does he offer us insult?!”

Flatly you replied in Khuzdul, **“He is offering you food.”**

After a twitch of his brow the group relaxed only to hear Thorin after his head bowed to you, **“Princess Jaqiearae, it is a honor to meet you finally. I was wondering if I might have a word with your father, King Buarndur.”**

A twitch of your brow later you replied, **“That would prove difficult.”**

Wetting his lips he replied, **“Your Mother perhaps? If he would not be returning soon.”**

 **“My Mother would be pleased to see you have done well in your time in the West. My father however will not be returning, as far as I am aware only Durin himself has returned from stone.”** Parting his lips in your steady trot out of his sight.

Already he had unknowingly harmed his chance for a good first impression, the one aiming to be King and lead all seven clans, who had no idea that one of the oldest, behind Durin, had fallen. But with an unreported death Thorin wondered what else he had missed in your life to make you act so coldly to him, hoping it was just the typical Dwarven wariness of strangers and not anything deeper.

.

Changed and seated around the table beside Lord Elrond Thorin waited for any sight of you only to stand when he spotted your mother enter. Bowing his head he stated, “Queen Blacklock.”

Ticking up a brow she moved to take the bare seat beside Gandalf feeling Bilbo’s eyes on her wondering who she was, “Jewelia, please. It is a great pleasure to see you here safely Prince Thorin.”

“I was troubled deeply to hear King Buarndur fell.” He paused as she nodded then he wet his lips, “However, I was wondering if we might discuss an agreement my grandfather and your husband came to when the Princess was still a child.”

She inhaled softly then replied, “Prince Thorin, since those days I have wed again. I will have to speak with my daughter before any promises are given. My new husband would not allow for her to be married off against her consent.”

With a nod he replied, “Of course. I understand completely.” A figure darting across the gardens to their right drew his eyes to it, there he found you racing after a giggling group of children with purple and blue eyes and dark curls matching yours. Their ears drawing his attention especially at their differing to yours, far more like an Elf’s. But silently he sat watching until the meal had ended leaving him staring up at Gandalf in his urging the Dwarf King to meet with him about his map. His eyes however faltered at your passing by, taking in your figure as best he could in your knee length pants with a far too baggy shirt on top coated in leaves and grass stains over those from your berry picking stop for a pie you would be making later.

Gandalf followed his gaze, “Surely you can make him see reason, Princess.”

Flatly you replied, “Doubtful.” Making their brows twitched up, “I have yet to meet a Durin who will allow reason to hinder their plans.”

Withholding his urge to gawk at you open mouthed Thorin inhaled deeply and replied as calmly as he could muster, “The Wizard here, is trying to convince me to pass of a sacred document few of my own kin have witnessed for a translation on a scripture that might not even exist.”

Not even a pause later you stated, “I take it you found a map to your home then.” Blinking at you he thought of what to say only to fall silent at your adding, “If anything it must follow the typical pattern of being written in moon runes. All you would really need is Lord Elrond’s moon stone.”

Thorin nodded and Gandalf stated, “That is precisely my point. We must speak with him.”

Not listening to him you added, “Though if the map is old enough to know how to write in moon runes then most likely it will be in Kurdu. Only my kin, to my knowledge, use them more frequently, but mainly for our Elven shared borders.”

Thorin wet his lips, “Would one of them, or yourself, happen to know Kurdu?”

You raised a brow turning around, “Do I speak Kurdu? It would be more likely to find goats dwelling in the ocean than me not knowing my Father’s tongue.” In a glance back at them when you reached the corner you nodded your head, “Moon runes, we need the proper position, hop to it.”

A smirk eased across the King’s face while he and Balin beside him hurried after you with Gandalf rolling his head in relief as Bilbo tried not to chuckle at your Hobbit temper showing, in his imagination for no other reason than karmic justice for their manners in his home and to him ever since.

Beside a giant broken crystal in the ground you glanced at Thorin, who hastily drew out his map he set across the top wetting his lips eyeing it as you glanced up at the clouds parting then down to the map. By the hand etched onto the page glowing letters appeared and you read to the awed trio, “Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key-hole.”

Letting out a breath of relief Thorin stated, “We find the door we know where to stand now.”

Balin, “Durin’s Day, not long yet I wager, if only I had brought the journals-,”

“November 22nd.” Your eyes met Thorin’s and you stated “I know your birthday too. Have to learn all the Royals growing up. Even with Elves.”

Baling nodded, “So, November 22nd, sunset.”

“Moon rise. Most likely in the West for a clear shot of the moon.”

They looked at you again and you stated, “Moon Runes.” Your head turned to your baby brother who told you in Elvish, _“Amad is calling for you.”_

You nodded stating without a glance at the others, “My Amad is calling me.” Leaving them to conference about what you had said as Ori, who had crept after you showed the exact phrase you had translated back to the nobles and Wizard trying to guess where it would be.

.

“He is expecting me to marry him?”

With an anxious wet of her lips your mother patted your hand again between hers on her lap beside you, “I understand this is difficult to hear. It was decided when you were a child.”

“Adad gave his word.” She nodded and you inhaled steadily, “Then, there is not much I can say. I should respect his wishes and honor his word.” Again she nodded and you added, “Though, Ada Maglor will not be fond of this. Perhaps, we should add extra time to the courtship, for gaining trust and respect.”

She nodded and said, “I do wish you will find happiness in this.”

With a teary grin you replied, “I hope for his sake he could be a quarter the husband Ada Maglor is to you. And I could be half as happy as you are.”

Leaning in her forehead pressed to yours with a tear matching yours in falling to your joined hands, “I hope for both of your sakes you will find peace and happiness in this.”

Drawing back you grinned at her, “In the worst case, all it takes is an heir and I could return here when they are old enough. Or to Moria, however that discovery is handled.”

Tilting her head back her lips met the tip of your nose and you grinned weakly, “Even in arranged unions if he does not make you feel safe you have the right to refuse him at any time. If he does-,”

“Turn mad like Thror..” Without needed to continue a nod was her agreement and at the return of your brothers you both wiped your cheeks and went to join them to see who had caught the biggest fish.

.

An argument was listened into and the end of their third day had begun leaving the disgruntled King alone under the stars stewing in the doubts of the Elf Lord below him. A jump was his response to your stopping at his side saying, **“I take it-,”** Looking him over in his hasty glance your way with an unsteady grin as his hands smoothing over the lower half of his outer shirt he was wringing moments ago you added, **“I take it you are trying to remain on your guard schedule and that is why you are not sleeping.”**

Wetting his lips he shook his head, **“No, Princess, merely lack the ability to sleep in lands where rulers doubt my sanity and ability to rule.”**

Your head tilted and you replied, **“Then I doubt you will get little if any sleep in Erebor for quite some time.”**

His brow twitched up then down again and he forced out a weak chuckle. **“I suppose you are right.”**

He wet his lips again, opening then closing them in hopes of learning what to say, **“Amad informed me of your wish to continue our betrothal.”**

His brows rose hopefully taking in your stoic yet peaceful seeming expression from what he could tell of your demeanor so far, **“Does it meet your approval? Of course it would be bent entirely upon my success in retrieving the stone. Granted I still meet your approval, as is custom, there will be a time of my gaining your affections and trust before the contracts are finalized to give your new Adad time to adjust to our union. Your Amad did state he would be unwilling.”**

 **“Most Elves would be.”** Making his lips part, **“My Ada has been very kind to my family. Since my Adad passed he ensured our people were seen to and never faltered in seeing to our safety and happiness.”**

Thorin nodded tentatively asking with a hint of a growl in his voice, **“I take it he knew you well beforehand, rather than swooping in out of nowhere?”**

**“He knew Amad for most of her life. Was great friends with Adad apparently.”**

Thorin’s brow rose, **“You did not meet him before the proposal?”**

Your brows pressed closer for a moment at his ignorance to your suffering and history, **“I was still a child. Not long after Thror fell, I believe.”**

 **“Oh.”** A deep breath left him, **“I had no idea, it had been so long.”**

You shook your head, **“How would you know? The Ironfists did all they could to wipe my clan off our earth. It goes without saying our records and whereabouts would be banned from transfer.”**

**“You have found peace here? We have heard the Ironfists have lost nearly all their lands and armed forces over the past few decades since the fires that took your lands.”**

**“Here and Moria.”** At that his expression dropped and his hand moved to the banister on his left in what he felt as the earth tremble under him, **“Sixty years is a long time for our kin, for some of us seemingly endless. There is a great deal to share between our exiled kin.”**

Softly he murmured, far softer than you had ever imagined him speaking, **“Your kin conquered Moria?”**

**“We had help.”**

**“Please tell me the Elves have not taken it from you.”**

You shook your head, **“No.”** he let out a sigh of relief, **“It is mostly a farming and market hub now.”** His brow twitched up, **“What use would we have for mithril when our people were starving?”** making his brow fall, **“Harsh floods with a month of hail almost, took out most of our fields. Lords Elrond and Celeborn were kind to see us through in return for aid in reinforcing their borders from a Goblin hoard, then we won that keep, and with the farming peaks in between there was more than enough to pay them back.”**

Thorin nodded, **“Of course.”**

**“You would be surprised at how well our kin get along. Countless shops, inns and eateries to sample in the voyage across.”**

Thorin nodded again, **“It would be a sight to see, Moria bustling to its glory again.”** Wetting his lips again he pled timidly, **“Forgive me, however, you did not exactly grant your approval or refusal to my request.”**

 **“I will give you a chance.”** A grin eased onto his face and your head turned hearing your sisters calling for you.

In your glance at him again his head bowed, **“I will see you at breakfast.”**


	2. Chapter 2

Breakfast came and went but the Dwarves had already gone leaving you to roll your eyes at the first of what you assumed to be a long line of slights your way with the meal through you groaned and rose to your feet walking through to your room grumbling, _“The idiot is going to get himself killed.”_

Into your path Lindir strode asking, _“You are going after them?”_

 _“I am returning to Moria.”_ His nod came with a relieved sigh, _“There I will gather forces and we will head to Greenwood to cut them off. I doubt they have planned on if they wake the beast.”_

Lindir nodded, _“Your Ada will be glad to see you again.”_

A giggle left you as you said, _“You mean he will be glad to have me back to calm our Maiar again.”_ Stirring a chuckle from the Elf in return leaving to inform Elrond of your decision.

..

Truly you made great time with the aid of the giant trotting bloom and vine coated goat leading the way through Greenwood rippling with fresh blooms and budding leaves along your path until your men filed into the palace. Screeches of spiders were your signal of arrival for the eager Elves welcoming you warmly through the front gates to which the barefoot robe clad King with hair still ruffled and knotted from the sleep your approach. Tightly in his crouch his grin widened accepting your crashing hug stating, _“Princess Jaqiearae, this is an unexpected joy.”_

Giggling to yourself in your reach up when he set you down you eased your fingers up to smooth the attempts at knots forming in his hair, _“I apologize for waking you early.”_

He shook his head chuckling lowly as Legolas slid into the hall fumbling with his own robe twisted in half leaving a section of his back exposed under his loosening braid when he slid his arms through the sleeves in his own rush for a hug of his own. _“Not at all. Wake my any time you wish. You know that.”_

Legolas inched back asking, _“You brought arms with you?”_

You nodded _, “I take it we beat your other guests.”_ Thranduil’s brow inched up as a set of servants arrived to claim your bags and guide your men to their usual quarters while the Maiar went to wiggle through the kingdom to one of the inner gardens. _“Prince Thorin is coming.”_

His brow twitched again and he nodded, _“Ah.”_

_“I understand your concern.”_

Sharply he inhaled and asked protectively, _“I take it he is still intending on winning your hand?”_

_“He did speak with my Amad on continuing the betrothal. I informed him I would give him a chance.”_

Thranduil nodded with a smirk ghosting onto his lips, _“Sound response. Now, off to your quarters so we can ready your bath and a meal for you.”_ His hand settled on your back guiding you off to the Royal Wing with a low chuckle sharing his usual set of plans for the first of your days in visiting him, _“This time we will make use of your early arrival before our Feast of Starlight. Your gowns are ready for you in your closet, though I do hope you choose your newest one.”_

You giggled again, _“I always choose the one you wish for me.”_

His grin deepened, _“I know. Still, you are always welcome to choose.”_

…

A full week you relaxed through Thranduil’s week of hopefully planned events and shows for you the choirs, orchestras and teams of actors had set up for you and your kin who were soon joined by Maglor and his league of soldiers mingled with those from Lothlorien behind Lord Celeborn. Fully ready to relax in their friend’s kingdom the Lords eased into a comfortable stride in the beginning of the weekend’s festivities you held a grand place in heading the opening celebration. Nightfall brought with it the guests Thranduil had reluctantly formed a place to participate in the events planned.

Stubborn and proud the group was escorted through to the Throne Room. Behind a pillar from a floor above you watched the meeting behind the group listening to Thorin’s shouts on Thranduil’s word being worthless and him being without honor the Elf King tensed, not at his words but the tear streaking down your cheek. Silently from behind Maglor’s hand reached over wiping your cheek in his move to wrap his arm across your chest freeing his hair to pool across your heavily tattooed shoulder.

.

From the top of your shoulder was a wooden etching of two ravens with a fabled weapon, Mjolnr, tangled in ribbons woven around them with a crude dragon’s head of the first beast the weapon forged had brought down in battle. That was on the outer side of your arm, the underside of which was left blank save for a start to a woven pattern of ribbons into a sacred tree shaped knot only the greatest of Kings had completed. Earning the first dot of ink came with a hefty price, barely 23 the first of the Ironfists surviving the fires your kin had started in the lands you had fled, discovered your kin.

In the sea of Elves they demanded a duel with the eldest of your line in a battle to the death for regaining the honor your kin had supposedly stolen from them. A laugh was your welcome into this seemingly one sided battle. Weaponless and bloody, still a child you felt what it was to end a life at your own hands, literally, much to the heartache of Maglor, your mother and the Elves surrounding knowing that you had lost the ignorance children were blessed with to the harshest reality of this world, kill or be killed.

If it had been just that one none could have faulted you for being so careful about the safety of your brothers, not against the weight of all the blood your adopted father and his kin had spilled, but after the first dozens came calling. Soon spilling to near a hundred, always in groups after the first with all breaking honor codes with hidden blades and weapons trying to bring you down only to fall and spread the pattern across the underside of your arm. Again and again you stood hearing their laughs seeing you stand for the honor of your kin as their blood destined ruler and each time your kin grew sterner seeing their child Queen growing into the unbreakable leader surpassing all any would expect from a young woman in your place.

None would have faulted you for refusing the duel, no honor would have been lost in their eyes, but again and again you stood knowing if your mother had all honor could be questioned still as she was not ruler by blood and your brothers were still far too young to stand in your place. Unbreakably you dealt the heaviest blows to the numbers of dwindling Ironfists and would gladly at what they had done to your kin and to stop all they had dared threaten in the future. You had known un-honorable creatures and Thranduil was not among them.

..

Draped in a black corseted gown sans sleeves with ruffles below the waist and golden vines stitched across the corseted top; a long bead riddled braid resting down your back coated in various golden decorations resting across the golden fox fur wrap the freshly arrived Maedhros had gifted you for the occasion. To their shock the Durins were guided to a set of royal chambers joined in a large apartment and gifted fine garb for the occasion they were stunned to be welcomed to attend. Dressed in the finery they filed into their seats for the first lavish dinner, of which their eyes followed you in your entrance and stroll to the King’s side with Maglor and Maedhros on your right at the opposite end of the table stirring up a sting of the refusal of their earning more time with their possible future Queen. Somehow you had beaten them here and had gained the Elf King’s favor sparing them his wrath after what Thorin had said.

A late entrance from the freshly discovered Bilbo came in the second course with the Hobbit being gifted the empty seat beside Prince Legolas, who had discovered him and aided in his being stirred after he had fallen with Bombur, who had woken hours prior, into an enchanted stream leaving them unconscious. Each glance and dish drew countless distant stares from the Durins until the meal, through which they had formed a plan to escape during the ball to follow. Hungrily Thorin took in all the details he could about your figure and what little he could decipher of your giggle filled conversation that brought out a heart stopping smile from you nearly making him drop his wine into his lap.

.

Dinner was called and at the move into the dance hall your paths crossed, a simple excuse for a trip to the lavatory had been given with a subtle nod of a head for Bilbo to join the party plotting something ruining the party for him. Though in their plotting they had missed your lean in to whisper something in Hobbitish to Bilbo, an escape route trailed by a promise for another celebration to invite him to at a later date. Clearly they had no intentions of remaining here and in your turn away from Bilbo to accept Thranduil’s open palm to escort you out to the lantern lit garden ballroom for the opening dance you caught your last glimpse of Thorin turning to slink out.

Rather than remain and reason with another King and greet your father freely you saw the man claiming to hope for the right of earning your trust and affection choosing his pride over the first steps of being yours with the aid of all your kin and Elven allies behind his claim to his throne. No, he chose to alone face the beast refusing to move past what he took as former slights against his kin fleeing undefeatable odds at the hands of a heartless foe. More and more he proved to be in-genuine and at his first promise of meeting you for breakfast in Rivendell and now on the dance floor. You were struggling to retain any trust in his word at all, now that he had broken it to you twice. So ignoring their fetching their bags to flee you counted the days distance they would have to travel and focused on the celebration, knowing you had at least three until you had to ready your forces to march again.

…

From the edge of Greenwood you marched through the echo of muffled roars escaping the sealed mountain. The distracted Company all scrambled through the mountain as you hopped from the horns of your Maiar, now in its Balrog form readying for battle with its flaming sword pulsing at his hip in your race from the overlook. Across the platform and down the stairs you made your way to the front gates. A firm planting of your feet in the halt of your race on the end of the locking bolt it slid roughly a few inches over and then dropped taking you down to the floor. Hopping up again you undid the final locks and gave a hard shove to a seemingly jammed lever off to the side with a weighted gearshift to open the gates.

A sharp kick to the handle and you huffed at its sudden snap to the ground stirring the gears to life with the weights up at the ceiling dropping to the ground forcing the gates open. Not a moment too soon as Smaug gave one final roar and was turning to scramble to the now open gates you exited to cross the small bridge in the shadow of Smaug’s head. His focus too distracted to notice you or the Balrog in the shadow of the curiously open gates he forgot to question. Turning your head you heard the shouts of Bilbo, “We Have To Warn Them!!!”

Stopping in his tracks his eyes widened at the lighting of the Balrog in his furious roar, behind Bilbo the Dwarves gathered watching in awe at Durin’s Bane grabbing Smaug by the wing flipping him onto his back sending a tremor through the earth. A wall of flames erupting behind the Balrog into the air as he drew his sword drawing the Dwarves’ eyes straight to your silhouette pitch black before the flaming wall lighting up the gates.

Thorin, “Who is that?”

Another burst of flames erupted and at the turning of your head a glimmer of purple eyes were caught, Balin wet his lips in the wafting heat from the inferno outside the gates as Bilbo said, “I believe that is the Princess.”

Dwalin chortled and patted Thorin on the back making him wobble and steady himself through Smaug’s awkward flap stirring a roll onto his side to clamber up onto his feet again as he kicked the Balrog away. Before the Dwarves could say anything you charged towards Laketown catching the spear the Balrog tossed to you formerly strapped to his waist stunning the men. Lowly Thorin rumbled, “They’re working together…”

On his feet the Balrog unfurled his wings and jolted into the sky towards Smaug in his floundering flap towards the city with his fractured wing. A harsh charge landed with a heavy crash leaving a crater into a rocky patch of earth casting stones all around. Fumbled holds and roar inducing slices sending showers of dragon blood into the air drew all eyes in the distances through walls of flames lit up their battle for all to see what the moon could not reveal to them. It was with the aid of the flames that lit your leap from the bent knee of the Balrog, who was holding Smaug above his chest with his underbelly fully exposed in the Dragon’s backwards bent head too distracted to notice your landing on his chest and stab of the spear crashing through the open gash in his chest.

The stab of it triggering his release of his jaws to let out his dying roar as the Balrog gripped the spear after releasing his hold on Smaug’s already damaged wing to tug it in deeper until the body you were standing on turned to stone and crumbled apart urging your Maiar to fold his hand around you keeping you from falling. Sitting up he brushed the stone body off him to set you down on the ground in his climb onto all fours. A full body wiggle later and he shifted back again driving the mouths open on the formerly cheering Durins seeing the now brightly blue eyed plant coated goat Maiar lowering his head for you to climb up his shout to sit. The cheers of your shadow cast army echoed from a few hundred yards away bringing them into the Company’s attention.

Without a word from you the goat turned and trotted towards Dale leading your army behind him. The sheer number of forces stunning the Durins watching their now lit torches lighting the ruined city. A faint glow already coming from the trotting giant goat headed straight for the empty ruined orchards and farming lands in a small ring of peaks under a crystal dome between Dale and Erebor. The harsh earth suddenly split open after a burst of flames from the goat’s mouth, the well rested soldiers abandoning their armor once the city was secured inside the now sealed gates to start turning the earth for the seeds they had brought with them from Moria and Rivendell.

Blankly Thorn blinked as Dwalin chuckled again patting the King on the back, “Well, one thing for certain, I doubt you’d find a Queen so fierce again.” Thorin raised a brow in his turning his head to face him, “She has handed the death blow to Smaug with her mastered Durin’s Bane.”

Balin’s narrowed eyes blinked again and he asked, “How, I cannot recall tale of it changing into a goat before.”

Gloin turned after easing his rune coated tossing stones he emptied from his pouch into his palm then he said, “Good standing stones.” Thorin peered over at the stones eyeing the runes aimed upwards, “No sign of any danger.” His hand folded around the stones he eased back into his pouch.

Thorin eyed the gates, “Let’s get these gates closed.” He sighed wondering why you had taken Dale and not tried to enter Erebor at all to even simply speak with him, eyeing the glowing city longingly hearing the echoes of your men fortifying and headed for the growing grounds, “At least we have some sort of defense until Dain arrives.” Turning to help the others reverse the weights to close the gates wondering at Smaug for respecting the gate on his fevered exit.

Sealed and secure the Company turned again with Balin readying the message to send off to Dain while the others returned to the hoard. Each step Thorin internally seeped deeper into his doubts and uncertainty as for what he would face when you spoke again to discuss border patrols and leaving a portion of your men until enough from their lands could return to defend Erebor. All of whom would be uncertain of the presence of Durin’s Bane so close to their formerly stolen kingdom.

…

“I will have war!”

From above the cry sounded and atop your battle ram your huff was heard by the forces of Elves behind you chortling to themselves at your turn from the gate at the arrival of a Dwarf horn. Sighing again you mumbled in Elvish, _“Lovely, common sense abound.”_

Even Thranduil chuckled under his breath turning his head as you heard Dain shout out, “Good morning. How are we all? I have a wee proposition, if you don't mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider... JUST SODDING OFF! All ye, right now!”

The Master mumbled to his small set of guards, “Stand Fast!”

In a glance at the Men you called back, “Oh just shove your heads in the sand you giant useless pigeon!”

His scoff sounded as Gandalf called out, “Come now, Lord Dain.”

Dain called back, “Gandalf the Grey. Tell this rabble to leave or I'll water the ground with their blood.” Now you were trotting through the parting Elf Army mumbling to yourself as you watched the head of the goat shaped Maiar over the walls of Dale trotting out to defend you at the assumed threat.

Gandalf eyed the Maiar himself answering, “There is no need for war between Dwarves, Men, and Elves. A legion of Orcs March on the mountain. Stand your army down.”

Dain, “I will not stand down before any Elf! Not least this faithless Woodland sprite! He wishes nothing but ill upon my people! If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then!”

Thranduil mumbled to Gandalf beside him, “He's clearly mad like his cousin.” Instantly feeling the sting at his own words for your weak agreement with the assumed Mad King.

Dain, “Ya here that lads? We're on! Let's give these bastards a good hammering!” Their forces joined their shields only to have their smirks drop seeing your forces step out from behind the tall wall of Elves to join their own shields in much greater numbers behind you as you halted in front of them feeling Dain’s eyes burning at you fiercely at the assumed betrayal of your own kin.

“For every Elf you kill ten of your men will fall!” That made Dain’s mouth drop, “Chose a better time for your suicide mission King Dain! War is marching here, conserve your weapons and forces or I will ensure you never spill blood so callously again!”

You could hear his growl but that fell silent at the wall of flames erupting between your armies making his forces turn their heads seeing the giant goat breathing plumes of smoke in its rumbling breaths before you called out again, “I do believe you have heard of Durin’s Bane. Will you have war or peace?”

Inhaling steadily Dain looked to you and cleared his throat, “We have come to aid my Cousin.”

You nodded, “Of course, and none have hindered your path except yourself.” Your Ram trotted aside at your low mumble and your forces along with the Elven ones split as well urging Dain forward timidly while eyeing the giant goat he passed that was nuzzling its snout against your back affectionately through your hushed assurances you were safe from their forces passing you by.

The gates were easing open and a roar erupted from your newly shifted Balrog at the splitting of the earth freeing a sea of orcs. Raising your leg over the front of your saddle you dismounted to join your forces on foot drawing their weapons as your father’s forces mingled with Elrond’s to race to aid you.

.

Shields crashed and swords split through the forces slamming into your lines easily fighting back. For hours you hacked away until you heard the Dwarves from the Iron Hills cheering at the arrival of the Company to join them armed to the brim. Each step it seemed they scoured through the faces in the sea of Dwarves until they found you. In awe Thorin watched you, to him it seemed your every unmatchable blow was dealt at terrifying speed. View of you however was obscured at a fleet of Wargs racing through the armies.

Distant howls and growls grew closer and your sudden leap up to tear Dain off his boar seemed out of reason until the warg mid air blocked by his body was viewed in the rotation of your sword decapitating it. Heavily it fell to the ground by the boar you were crouching on top of for a few moments until you hopped down. An outstretched hand for the King seated on the ground was accepted with a grateful nod answered by your pat on his shoulder mid turn to jump back into battle luring him after you.

Behind your back Dain glanced at Thorin to ask, “Cousin, just what did you barter to gain her kin’s allegiance?”

Thorin chuckled answering back, “That, Cousin, is the Daughter of King Buarndur.”

Dain’s mouth dropped open, “King of the Blacklocks.” His eyes traveled to you, “She is honoring your betrothal then?”

Thorin chuckled bumping his shoulder to aid him in avoiding a hole in the ground, “If I can earn her favor I will gain her hand.”

Dain chuckled back, “Mighty task then, gaining the favor of that woman.”

.

A distant racing group drew your eye from the hoards slamming into one another around you. Jolting right you charged for your Balrog taking out the tail ends of the forces swarming from the holes in the earth, a sharp whistle from you turned its head and hunched granting you reach of his horns in your leap off the back of a now decapitated troll in your path. Firmly you took hold of the horn in his leap up into the sky soaring towards the Durins racing up to Raven Hill. Cutting them off the towers were taken out by a jet of flames while the Durins stole glances up at you in your leap down onto one of the ruined peaks while your Balrog turned for the nearing fleet of bats with a fierce roar and wall of flames.

Down the crumbled building you raced your way towards the Durins in the small sea of orcs you sliced through. Tight grips and sharp jerks tugged the young Princes free from unseen harm bringing their eyes to you only to see the attack you were blocking with either your swords or the shield strapped across your back you slid from your back to over your arms and then back again to send a blow in return. No matter your irritation with the stubbornness and idiocy of the men that openly ran into a trap you still fought tirelessly through the second wave of orcs.

Over the hilltops your father’s forces arrived mingled with those from Greenwood behind Thranduil on foot who was charging straight for you in your lone race after Thorin currently in a seeming boulder tossing game with Azog. Another roar erupted and at the end of the bat forces, halfway to the icy river over your head in spotting Thorin having lost his wooden shield piece a giant whip flung out curling around Thorin’s middle jerking him free of Azog’s next blow. His body flew straight into you as the whip unfurled hurling you both painfully into a snow pit as flames erupted turning the wide eyed white orc turning him to ash.

The absence of any more orcs stirred a shiver from your Balrog turning it back to its goat form in its turn to search for you. Concerned it trotted towards the Elf King as he dug through the snow bank with his son after Maglor charged through the hole you had created head first. Coated in snow you were uncovered at Maglor’s rising up with Thorin pushed aside coughing at the blow to his ribs from before made worse by the tight whip, in your father’s arms you groaned and coughed as his hand settled onto your chest plate over your middle in your mumble, _“Straight in the ribs.”_

Coughing again you settled your head against his shoulder while Thranduil dug for your dropped swords he cradled after asking Thorin, “Are you injured?”

After a bloody cough from the split in his lip Thorin stood growling back, “Nothing to keep me from arms.”

Thranduil nodded then turned to your father bringing you to Thorin’s attention at another of your coughs, “We should head for Dale. My Healers have set up there.”

Thorin took a step closer, “Is she well?”

In your father’s arms you answered, “-Far better shape than you.” Your next cough stirred a chuckle from the Dwarves as your father turned humming to you, _“Come now Little One, to the Healers.”_

Thorin wet his lips and stepped after him saying, “I take it you are Queen Jewelia’s husband then?”

Maglor turned his head and nodded, “Yes.” His eyes scanning over the battered King, “You should consult our Healers. Do not allow your irritation for Elves trigger a break of your word to the Princess.”

He turned away to keep walking as Kili asked, “Uncle, how would that be a break of your word?”

Thorin shrugged then glanced at Maglor’s back at his stating, “Your death, you promised courtship, if you allow yourself to die I will count that as a breech of your contract. Wouldn’t you?” Not waiting for the answer he kept going and the Dwarves shared a silent glance rippling through them before following your father down the hillside straight for the corpse filled battlefield your men were starting to clear into piles for burning or burial depending on the source towards Dale.

.

Through the streets the first rows of buildings were turned into healing wards and at your arrival you were set down onto an empty cot where you removed your arm grieves, followed by the gloves underneath revealing your bloody knuckles with bruises growing on the backs of them and down your fingers. A few hidden straps were unsecured under your chest plate that was helped up over your head with the layer of mithril rings in a shirt after it to be cleaned. Wincing you laid back as the Dwarves spotted a hint of your tattoo coated shoulder and bicep coated in blood. Gently your undershirt was pulled up to the base of the vest over your bust for the Elves to inspect your ribs though view of you was cut off with the drawing of a separating screen was set up revealing a few scars across your sides and stomach.

With a sigh Thorin went to his own cot and stripped to his breeches and allowed the Elves to help hand wash him off to uncover his hidden wounds until he was bandaged and sent on his way holding his armor. The removal of your screen had revealed you on your feet fully displaying your tattoo marking you as a skilled defender of your kin. Your father beside you held your armor with Thranduil beside him still clutching your swords now sheathed locked in conversation through your exiting the building.

Out in the streets the approach of three broad burly Dwarves approaching you your brow inched up at their halfway distracted call of, **“I call for a challenge to the head of your clan for the insults to our kin and King!”**

Open mouthed a sea of their kin watched wondering who would step forward while the second said, **“Let him step forward and own up for this slight!”**

Another step from you brought their eyes to you with cocky sneers as the third asked, **“Where is the head of your clan?”**

The Elves now glaring at the challenging Dwarves did nothing to interfere as you took another step answering, **“You’re looking at her. Still wish to defend your honor? I’ve broken far bigger than you.”**

Finally their eyes drop to your tattoo as your father removed a holster from your shoulder holding a pair of daggers while you started to unbuckle the belt holding your sheath for your throwing axes. Swallowing dryly they looked you over as you passed it blindly to Thranduil, who accepted it in your next step holding your gaze on the three at Dain’s approach from the side, **“Grond, just what are you doing?”**

The leader answered with a hint of fear in his tone after trying to count the times you had been challenged by how large your earned tattoo reached towards your elbow, something Thorin was now doing as well. **“Their clan offered us insult, threatened to kill us if we fought the Elves.”**

Dain nodded, **“Aye, and since has saved my life and that of my cousins and their heirs, several times. No matter their alliance with the pointy eared Princess it would do no one any honor to kill the future Queen of Erebor.”**

Promptly their eyes all snapped to you and the three bowed their heads deeply offering customary withdrawal phrases from a challenge to retain their honor and yours, strolling past them you stated, **“Anytime you wish to challenge my kin I will be ready.”** Making their brows rise in shock at your disbelief that you would assume they would wish to challenge you again.

Wetting his lips Thorin followed you and caught your stride saying, “Princess,” your head turned to catch his eye, “Would you do me the honor of moving yourself and your kin into Erebor?”

Stopping to turn to face him you asked, “Which kin?”

Thorin wet his lips, “Of course your Ada’s men would be welcome as well as yours.”

You nodded, “I will have to fetch my things.” You followed his gaze to the trotting goat Maiar passing through the streets stirring up winter resistant moss through the cracked cobbled path, “Do not worry, he will stay in Dale.” Your second in command approached passing you on a comment in Kurdu you nodded your head to in agreement then you looked to Thorin again, “My men wish to remain to defend the keep until more forces arrive from your other kingdoms.”

Thorin peered up at your father who was already looking down at him as Thorin grinned and said, “I hope you find our halls welcoming to your kin.”

Maglor flatly replied, “As long as our Princess is there we will feel at home.”

Thorin nodded and watched as he followed you to fetch your things then glanced up at Thranduil and sighed, “Would you mind feasting with us tonight?”

Thranduil shook his head, “Not at all. Someone had to make sure Maglor does not throttle you in your sleep.” Thorin’s brow ticked up, “He is still a bit cautious on your union as per his rights as her Ada.”

Thorin nodded, “Yes. I do hope that it will not take too terribly long for me to gain his trust.”

Thranduil’s head tilted, “I am not too certain his trust is the one you should be concerned about gaining. As far as arranged marriages go Maglor has set quite a standard for you to live up to for care, adoration and affection.”

Thorin couldn’t help but smirk, “Adoration and affection?”

Thranduil raised a brow, “If you are unable to handle both than perhaps it is best to dissolve the contract now. I am certain Jaqiearae will uphold a defense of Erebor and aid in the future should you request it.”

Thorin flatly replied, “I am more than capable of both and more.”

Thranduil nodded, “Hmm.” His eyes turning to you in the distance with a pair of Elves holding your bags at their instance with Maglor beside you easing his fingers through your loose curls that had slipped free from your braid tucked up into a slipping bun. Steadily his fingers dropped to straighten a fold in the strap of your small vest securing your loose shirt under it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Use of lyrics from - Someone by Kelly Clarkson

Supplies were gathered and worked into a great feast where toasts were given, tales told and songs had begin to be formed. On the side of Thorin’s table you chatted with your father and Thranduil who were still being avoided respectfully by Thorin and his kin while the Iron Hills forces all stole glances at you wondering why you were being avoided as well and your kin had chosen not to join you in Erebor.

Until nearly midnight you remained in the celebrations and silently slipped out of the main hall filled with laughter and singing when your eyes began to droop. Behind Thranduil you followed straight to the Royal Wing where you joined him inside his usual apartment you would share with him, Legolas, Tauriel and your father. A warm bath was already waiting in the sunken tub fed by a hot spring with soaps already set out by the Elleth sent ahead to aid you in undoing your hair and bathing. Firmly you scrubbed the blood off your body and out of your hair, on the side of the tub you sat wringing your hair out before the Elleth helped to comb through and braid your hair back while one of the healers entered to add another helping of the healing creams to your heavily bruised ribs, knees, elbows and knuckles.

A simple pair of panties were added under a pair of knee length pants with a fresh loose shirt and vest settled around your middle on your path to your bed while the Elleth and Healer left to let you get some sleep in the freshly beaten sheets in to free it from the dust a group of Elves had readied for you in the start of the feast. Heavily you slipped off to sleep reminded of your first night in Moria by the overpowering scent of dust lingering in this mountain.

Floors below however in a glance back to his table from speaking with one of his other cousins from Iron Hills Thorin’s brows furrowed for a moment in finally seeing you had left, the sight of a great number of your Elves still lingering about gave the assumption that you had simply gone off to bed. Heavily he sighed sharing that you had gone off to bed, a few questions finally bubbled out and the set agreement between your father and Thror. The main question being how you were handling the agreement, answered mostly with a wry chuckle from Thorin followed by his alluding that you were still reluctant at his inability to forge your courtship beads just yet. That admission stirred more than playful nudges signaling him to head up to bed himself so he could wake early to head to the treasury for supplies and the forges after to begin crafting to properly adorn the future Queen.

.

Daybreak brought with it a group breakfast the Company and Elf Lords shared around you. When Thorin was off to the forges you made your way back to Dale. The chilly drizzle filled morning blooming into a storm that would blow through bringing a soft snowfall once the temperature dropped enough. Joining in with your workers, all fully rested and thankful for the food Thranduil had sent from his halls for them, they were pleased to get started on the city’s repair. All questioning how you were being treated so far and how they could help in your courtship, the eldest of them all making sure to stay near you and respectfully offer refreshers on the courtship of your Dwarven kin.

Once lunchtime rolled around you strolled back through the gates of Erebor up to the Royal Wing. There you freshened up and joined your father to eat seeing that Thranduil and his Elves had already returned to Greenwood at the distracted Thorin unable to talk terms of trade just yet in his distracted state to catch up to the steps you should be at already due to your place dwelling in his halls. Three days you continued your pattern until word had arrived of the first Dwarves to arrive on the edge of Greenwood, the shock of how early they had arrived even before Thorin having sent word to his sister rippled through the mountain. Though it was uncovered that you had sent word when the Company had fled Rivendell you were aiding their cause and to go ahead and send the first travelers.

Among them Thorin’s siblings and Mother who all peeked through the curtains on the windows of their carriage currently passing through the open gates behind the first group of soldiers returning to a round of cheers. Off to the side on an overlooking balcony beside your father you stood peering down at the awed returning numbers as you chatted about his plans to head home to see your mother soon and to be with your younger siblings again in their upcoming set of birthdays. The dates would be handled swiftly and with confirmation from Maedhros, who had been hiding out in Rivendell for ages now and through your travels had found his willingness to travel again to be near you and handle your supervision in Maglor’s absence.

The Uncle in question arrived on the back of a single horse drawn wagon with a full bag he carried through on his shoulder with the pair of trunks in the back a group of Elves hurried over to take up to your apartment while another handled the wagon and his steed. A grin eased onto his face and in an eager trot he climbed the set of stairs leading up to you bringing your location to Thorin’s attention seeing you being raised in the man’s arms in a tight hug ending with a peck on your cheek before he set you down to hug his brother. The pair in matching messes of curls pulled back into lopsided buns from the travel and work filled morning. Through your grin your eyes turned towards Thorin who was nodding his head to you while speaking with a thickly bearded Dam formerly squeezing the joy out of Fili and Kili in a tight greeting.

Bright blue eyes from the face of a stunning picture of beauty for your father’s kin was staring up at you with a curious expression no doubt from Thorin’s sharing your continued betrothal. A steady breath filled your lungs and down the balcony you strolled through the short set of turns and halls until you exited behind Thorin who turned with a soft grin. **“Dis, this is Princess Jaqiearae.”** He paused for a moment eyeing her shifting gown across his feet in her turn to face you fully, **“My intended.”**

A grin eased onto your face and at her hand extending yours eased into hers granting you both a feel of the contrasting textures of the other’s palms, Dis grinned in return proudly at her returned title now matching yours, **“It is a pleasure to have a name to add to a face. Thank you for your letter, it would have taken us months to return and aid in defending our keep.”**

Thorin lowly asked, **“You are the one who wrote to them?”**

At Dis’ releasing your hand finally you locked eyes with him lowering yours across your middle to settle on your still aching ribs, **“You were bound to do something foolish, I assumed if I couldn’t talk some sense into you I imagined your sister or mother could.”**

A smirk flinched onto Dis’ face matching the grin on their mother’s face behind her at your continued stoic expression as Thorin eyed it carefully through Frerin’s stepping forward to offer his hand palm up making you scan over the lighter haired longer bearded version of Thorin. Gracefully your hand rose and rested across his allowing him to raise and kiss your still bruised knuckles that didn’t phase him at all.

**“Princess, I cannot wait to see how much influence you gain over my brother in time.”**

You smirked back, **“I have yet to gain any influence just yet and that front seems dim just yet.”**

His eyes shifted to Thorin at the upwards tick of his brow then back to you with a smirk of his own **, “Do not be so doubtful of the sway have. Very few could muster our trust so easily.”**

You weakly chuckled as he released your hand, **“Well I imagine with Durin’s Bane in Dale adds little choice in the matter.”**

Diaa behind them asked, **“Durin’s Bane?”**

Looking at Thorin you said, **“Did you prefer to tell her, or should I?”**

Thorin wet his lips and turned to settle his hand on her shoulder as you nodded excusing yourself for lunch. Joining your father and uncle to head up to your apartment while Thorin filled them all in on what they had missed on the way to show them up to his apartment as their own apartments were still in need of a good scrubbing.

.

Barely an hour had passed and with your plates rinsed and placed on the rack to dry far behind you in your path out to Dale humming to yourself. The Elves chatted among themselves about the travel plans and the complaints your brothers had given at not being allowed to leave the safe borders of Moria with your uncle as your regent until the Ironfists were certain not to try and attack them as they had you. Softly in your head you sang to yourself the words of a poem in a note your birth father had left you as per tradition before marching for Azanulbizar.

_We stay in love like vacation homes_

_You like summers on the sunny coast_

_But when the cold needs a winter coat_

_You say you will until you don't_

_You wore a compass around your neck_

_A different North than we'd ever read_

_Well, did you get where you're going yet?_

_Wish you the worst, wish you the best_

_I don't know how I fell into your rearview_

_Paralyzed lullaby, I couldn't hear you_

_So I hope you were right_

_And next to you tonight, there's_

_But I hope you will find_

_Someone to cry for, someone to try for_

_Someone to turn your crooked roads into her streets_

_Someone to fight for, someone to die for_

_Someone whose arms will hold you tight enough to be_

_The reason you breathe_

_Be the reason you breathe_

As confusing as the words seemed to be to you decades ago once your mother fell for Maglor you began to see just what you should demand from your future partner. This betrothal seemed to trouble your dreams as to how Thorin would actually be. So far even a promise of breakfast seemed above his limits right now and no matter what you said there always seemed to be some question as to why you were saying it, as if there was a script you were unaware of needing to follow.

It is true there were certain words that come with special markers or traditional levels to progress your courtship but you were nowhere close to needing those just yet. To yourself you huffed and hoped up the same broken set of steps to the main palace in the center you were helping to restore mentally grumbling at how little you had seen past the judgmental, untrustworthy, moody and assuming headstrong side to the King to whom you were promised.

Over and over you reminded yourself that surely your father must have had the best intentions and perhaps the Prince he once was could be tapped into again and just maybe he wouldn’t be like the cruel Ironfists, the only other race of Dwarves you had known so well outside your own compassionate and fiercely defensive kin. So much cruelty had been unleashed on you unfairly and knowing yourself you would not tolerate any harm or belittling, you would sooner face banishment or even have to flee for defending yourself if the worst came about and he slipped into the sickness again.

..

**“How are we meant to live with that creature-,”**

Thorin cut his mother off **, “Amad, her people have lived with him for decades now. We’ve seen that creature shift form its peaceful goat form and into its Balrog form. It seems to be under her control somehow. The Elves give it room, as do her kin, only she is allowed to touch it it seems. Our agreement has been honored so far, the Princess seems more than willing to honor her late father’s wishes to offer a chance at her hand.”**

Dis, **“A chance?”**

Thorin sighed, **“We met when I was crownless, I was more than rude to her adopted kin and twice I have appeared to flee her company. Without my asking she contacted you, granted our kin safe passage here and set her Balrog on Smaug, on whom she dealt the final blow to. There is no reason not to trust her.”**

Dis, **“There is no question of trust, merely** ,” Dis wet her lips, **“Was she aware of the betrothal? She seems, perhaps that would explain why she could be reluctant for courtship.”**

Thorin, **“I do not believe she was, not until I brought it up in Rivendell. It seems her adopted father would not favor arranged marriage.”**

Frerin, **“And yet she still agreed.”** He teased earning a narrowed gaze from his brother, **“You seem protective already, for such a beauty I can see why.”**

Diaa tapped both of their legs, **“Boys!”**

Dis chuckled, **“Amad, there is no competition, she is promised to Thorin she will surely not try for a second son even if she finds Thorin unwilling to court her.”**

Thorin **, “I am willing, more than willing!”**

Dis raised a brow, **“Then where are her courtship beads?”**

Thorin, **“I finished them yesterday, along with a hair comb and daggers for my first gifts to catch up.”**

Frerin, **“Good choice. I look forward to seeing her wearing them at your coronation.”**

Thorin sighed and said, **“Do we really need to have a full coronation, wasn’t besting a Dragon enough?”**

Dis chuckled and neared him to claim the last of the cookies they had on his saucer by his tea cup, **“Dear brother, what would your future Queen say if she found out you were avoiding the very ceremony Grandfather had planned for her to be fixed at your side throughout and long after. After all, if you are not coronated then how could we possibly crown her as Queen?”**

Thorin sighed again, **“Fine.”** His hand moving to help position the pillow Dis was adjusting behind her back at the cramp her large stomach was stirring up, **“When is Vili arriving?”**

Frerin, **“Oh, next week. Got sidetracked in Rivendell, wanted this one Elf to show him how to make the dagger he had for a birthing gift.”**

Thorin stood, **“Well, if you will excuse me, I have to arrange a dinner for my intended, if she will agree to it.”** His eyes shifted to Dis, **“Since she seems so disagreeable to me.”**

Dis shook her head, **“She has a soft spot for you. Why else would she so foolishly aid you in your death march.”** Thorin rolled his eyes at her smirk and he turned to kiss his mother’s cheek then leave the room to make his way to Dale.

..

On his way however one matter after another got in the way and it was nearly sunset when he found himself finally passing through Dale in search of you. Up to the most inner circle he was awed at the set supports for the ceiling in the old palace miraculously only in need of a new roof, supporting beams for the second floor and a few repaired walls to pass for ramshackle. Straight to the music room he walked in a daze to the sound of an ethereal hum to a familiar tune haunting his dreams. An off pitch note from the next key halted you from your humming to stand and peek under the open hood to sigh at the worn fixture you noted on the open journal for repairs to add to the list.

“What is that song?” At Thorin’s voice your turned and his eyes followed your ponytail resting over your shoulder full of braids packed with beads all burned now, at the knowledge of your tattoo, meant they were trophies from those who had dishonored you.

“I wrote it.”

Carefully you looked him over in his wrinkled shirt and sleeve unrolling itself he forced back up to his elbow again walking closer to you wetting his lips, “I, it is beautiful,” unwilling to share he had heard it fully in his dreams as his motivation to keep going in his roughest times even unable to understand the Kurdu portions. “I understand it is late and I am behind as far as our union is concerned. As for why I am here, I wished to request your company for dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?”

He nodded, “Of course you would have time to change and bathe.” He wet his lips again and your brow twitched up, “Not that you require it, how you are now would be perfect if you wished. Plus, if you wished for a chaperone there is time to secure one as well.”

Stepping closer to him as you pocketed your journal you eyed his expression uncertain of its meaning, “It seems my work crews have already turned in for the night and Ada would come hunting for me if I do not return soon. Besides, my uncle was wondering when you would ask for some time with me.”

Thorin nodded joining you on the path back again, “Of course, I do apologize-,”

You shook your head, “You are rebuilding a kingdom. I understand you are busy we have encountered the same.”

He nodded, “Of course.”

“Though I will warn you Ada is expecting a conversation with you as well, he’s leaving in a few days-,”

Thorin, “Oh?”

“My younger sisters’ birthdays are coming up with my younger brothers’ after.”

He wet his lips, “Why not bring them here?”

You glanced at him, “How much do you know of our feud with the Ironfists?”

“I know they have shared the lands that were once yours were taken by fires that claimed most of theirs. Not much past that other than rumors your line was wiped out.” He paused then added hastily, “Of which I was thrilled to learn was false.”

You weakly chuckled, “My brothers are not safe outside our borders.”

“They would be safe here.”

Your eyes locked with his, “Not with the Ironfists marching here to aid in your defense.”

His eyes dropped to your ponytail, “This is impossibly rude to ask,” your hand rose to offer him a better view of your braids he tenderly cradled in a pause in the center of the path between Erebor and Dale. His lips parted as he counted them out, “How many clans have dishonored you?”

His eyes met yours with concern, “All of them.” Unsteadily he inhaled and you added, “I will not lie, you will not find much support from them on binding yourself to me.”

At your step he moved with you gently setting your hair back down over your shoulder again, “I do not require it.” You glanced at him again, “Our kin have been allies far greater than mine with the Ironfists, far too long they have demanded without backing up their promises.”

“You are serious?”

He stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Yes. None of my kin were at ease hearing of the boasted end of the Blacklocks, you have my word, the first sign of aggression towards any of you will be dealt with accordingly. We are betrothed and I will ensure your entire family, even from your Ada are welcome and safe here.”

You nodded and he turned to show you onwards again, “Just make certain I am there when you tell their King that,” he glanced at you again and you giggled, “I want to see how red he turns.” Making Thorin chuckle.

The full way into Erebor and up to the Royal Wing you shared his plans for the repairs and when you finally reached the right floor talk of the coronation began. The basic ceremony came up leading up to the typical celebration after. “It all leads up to a big ball, in which I open-,” Thorin’s grin spread anxiously as you paused outside your door, then it flinched at Balin entering with a relieved sigh, “Thorin, your inspection of the armory-.”

Thorin nods, “Until supper then,” he claims your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“I suppose I am free for supper on Thursday.”

Thorin freezes, “Thursday?”

“You have a habit, Your Majesty, in Rivendell you promised breakfast, then fled. And in Greenwood-.”

Thorin cups your hand, “I will see you in one hour. I will prove to you my word can be trusted.”

Your head tilts, “When it comes to food who can be certain.” Making him chuckle at your slight teasing tone, in an exchange of bowed heads you turn to leave and Balin inches closer to learn all he could of your advancement in courtship.

Thorin went to the end of the hall then paused patting Balin on the shoulder, “Cousin, the inspection can wait.” Balin looked up at him with his lips parted, “Twice I have promised time with my intended and if I leave this hall it will be three,” he turned Balin to head back to his apartment, “There is something more important we need to discuss while I change and finish supper.”

Balin nodded, “Of course. What is the issue?”

Thorin, once his door was open passed through heading for his room, stripping along the way, “We need to discuss our stance with the Ironfists.”

Balin raised a brow, “What-?”

Tossing his shirt away he answered, “Jaqiearae’s Ada is leaving for her younger siblings’ birthdays. I offered for them to travel here, however, she informed me her kin and the Ironfists have been feuding since they tried to steal their lands before those fires. Those burnt beads in her hair are all from clans that have dishonored her.” Balin’s mouth dropped open, “If they try to harm or insult her or any of her kin I am expelling them from the council and from my favor. Too long they have been weighing down our trust in them and boasting of the end of the Blacklocks, the kin they knew I was betrothed to.”

“I see.”

“We are to be wed and I will not have my Queen feel unsafe in my halls or parted from her kin. I mean, no wonder her men chose to remain in Dale and the Elves chose to stand guard over her. I should have connected this earlier.” He groaned looking at each of his shirts, “Blue with gold or silver runes?”

Balin, “I think for initial courtship silver is best.” Thorin nodded and pulled the fresh shirt on, “I agree. Though Dain will find that tough, seeing as a third of their kin make up his southern guard in that new peak.”

Thorin, “He will understand. I believe he already agrees with my choice.”

Balin chuckled, “A great deal of the men are envious of you, quite a fine Lass for our Queen, even with the Hobbit ears,” making Thorin twitch up his brow in Balin’s chuckle, “They are adorable, frame her face nicely, our pronounced ears no doubt would be unfavorable on her with her mother’s cheekbones.” Making Thorin smirk remembering your hair tucked behind those adorable ears of yours.

A few minutes later he had his fresh outer vest chosen and pulled on with a belt to secure it before he darted to his mirror to check his hair then he rushed to check on his dinner.

.

Patiently you waited and after bathing and pulling on a simple gown you could easily wear to bed with the removal of the belt around your hips if he stood you up again. Anxiously you sat on the arm of your uncle’s chair feeling his own muscles tensing at each tick of the clock since the hour had came and went. A full ten minutes you sat listening to your Ada in his pacing, ranting about all he would say to the King unless he had a decent excuse, such as another dragon attacking Erebor that he had to fight off single handedly with a rusty spoon.

Three hasty knocks later and you stood up following your Ada to the front door of your apartment brushing your loose hair over your shoulders anxiously as the door was eased back freeing a waft of smoke into the main hall. Stepping forward with Maedhros behind you your eyes all scanned over Thorin, who gave a weak clear of his throat paired with an anxious grin at you, “King Maglor, Princess Jaqiearae, I do apologize for my tardiness, however, something seems to have, happened, with my pie.” Your brow ticked up at the lingering smoke coming off of him, “So, no pie, however the three cakes and brownies I baked seem to be holding strong. Balin and Dwalin have headed the transfer of the dishes to an empty apartment previously scrubbed with a great view from a balcony to give mine time to air out. Stove seems to be a bit testy still.”

His ranting ended and the seemingly helpless expression on his face at the three of you had Maglor chuckling in his turn to gently pat your shoulder and nudge you forward saying softly, _“A decent explanation. Enjoy your dinner.”_

Passing through the door you felt his eyes subtly taking in your appearance after you had stolen one of him, “I did not expect you to have so much made for supper.”

He chuckled, “I did not have it made.” You glanced at him, “My Amad would never hear of it, plus, I enjoy baking and it does not hurt to have walls between my kin and my stove. They tend to break in and steal it all a piece at a time. I do hope they haven’t resorted to thievery tonight. I doubt it, though still possible.”

A weak chuckle escaped you stirring his grin wider a twinge in his stolen glance at you seeing your subtle grin, “My younger sisters are the same way. All four of them.”

“And your brothers? You have seven, correct?”

The hint of pain in your expression made his smile flinch before you replied, “I have seven brothers.”

“I spoke to Balin about the Ironfists, I will discuss it with Dain in the morning. He will agree with my decision.” A pair of sealed doors were in front of you and in a glance back at you he grinned easing the door on the left open to allow you through.

The first thing you saw was the light from the roaring fire from the fireplace pouring into the hall also lit with lanterns on the walls. Beside him you walked with the King who showed you into the dining room mainly lit by the candles on the table as well as the moonlight pouring through the glass wall between dramatic arches. An overpowering scent of all the food he had put together wafted over to you making your mouth water in your eyeing the spread across the table. The plate of cake with a subtle dip in the side from a stolen taste made you giggle to yourself at Thorin’s scoff, carefully he eased back the chair you settled into then watched him ease back his own beside you.

Serving out the food Thorin kept stealing subtle glances at you eyeing your response, the positive grin on your face spreading his and he sat again. Uncorking the wine he brought you passed him your glass he filled carefully then returned to you then locked his eyes on yours at your saying, “You left off at your coronation.”

He nodded corking the wine he set down again and wet his lips, “Yes, the celebration opens with a dance, my first dance meant for myself and my Queen, or future Queen,” he wet his lips again giving you a hopeful gaze, “I was hoping to convince you to accept my arm for the evening?”

A grin eased onto your lips at his flustered blush and you replied, “No need for convincing. Of course I will accept your arm. I hope to make you and your kin proud.”

“You already have. Erebor is protected, Smaug dead and Moria is thriving.”


	4. Chapter 4

A smirk eased onto your face at the first taste of food and he couldn’t help but grin at your teasing comment on it having a smoky taste. Food was the main topic with stories of cooking and what sort of dishes would be in the coronation. Not an overly personal topic but one that could help to level some sort of common ground between you, all the while the King’s mind raced in his struggle to decipher the mystery behind you and your hidden motives and agendas possibly to be uncovered in your own gains for this union. The gentle light of fireflies above through desert lit up the ceiling stirring a grin onto your face mirroring the King’s, who was still staring directly at you since the moon rose and cast you in its gentle glow through the uncovered glass doors of the balcony.

Wetting his lips Thorin scooted closer to the end of his seat locking his eyes on yours again at the lowering of your fork to your empty plate, “I was hoping,” he cleared his throat at your shift in your seat to face him fully, “I was hoping that I might have the right to offer you my bead of courtship to mark our union properly for all to see.”

Steadily he set a small box on the table and your hand reached back to undo the ribbon you had used to tie the upper half of your hair out of your face for the meal you lowered to your lap to tie around your wrist. “If you need me to shift some of my other braids for proper placement let me know.”

On his feet he wet his lips and inhaled shakily reaching out for the hair around your face. Tenderly his fingers split a portion off from the rest weaving an intricate braid mingling three strips of braids with jeweled beads placed all through the long strand. A dip of his hand into his pocket brought out a second box he offered to you, “I have handled the first few weeks of our acquaintance poorly. By now I should have secured several dinners and meetings with your kin and you, both under their watch and alone. Since then you have seen me offer insult to several Elf Lords, pass on their hospitable offers of shelter and food. Then I declared war, one which you,” he sighed and sat down on his chair he tugged closer to yours, “I have no clue what you have said to calm them.”

You shook your head, “I have not said a thing to calm them.” His brow inched up, “From your side of the fence I can imagine your surprise, though, in their lifetimes a great number of Dwarves have insulted them and done far worse than you have dealt out.”

The box you accepted from him was eased open and you eyed the hair comb with a string of fireflies formed of mithril and bright yellow diamonds and then Thorin as he said, “Living here, under Thror, there are many faults for this kingdom and, unfortunately for me as well.” He wet his lips furrowing his brows as he began to lose focus on his topic, “However, even in the darkest points even if all they are is fireflies there is light here. I hope you might grow to like it here.”

“Thank you.” Your eyes sank to it again and he shifted closer.

“You do not like it?”

You looked at him again shaking your head and his lips parted at the tears in your eyes, “Sorry, we, um, yellow diamonds are rare, or were, in our first home. My Adad used to have these,” you wet your lips motioning with your hands, “These long pins for my Gran’s hair he said I could wear when I was old enough. They matched the ring I was supposed to inherit with a tiara, for my wedding.”

At the tear streaking down your cheek his hand settled around your waist and he asked, “They were lost, when you fled?”

You shook your head, “No. We have them. I just, him showing them to me are one of the few memories I have with him.” Drawing in a breath you locked your eyes on his, “He would approve. And it is lovely, thank you.”

He smirked drawing back his hand to reach into his pocket, “Good, because I have another gift.”

You giggled softly, “Of course you do.”

Rumbling back lowly he replied, “I do owe you a great deal.”

Wiping your cheek you smirked, “This better be good then.”

Making him chuckle then pass you the leather pouch you eased open then giggled seeing the raven etched mithril dagger set stirring a chuckle from him, “A bit traditional. Though should you prefer an axe,”

You shook your head, “I do not need another ax. I have fifty, much to my Ada’s horror. Typical birthday gift.”

A knock sounded on the door and he sighed leaning back to see Balin entering to say, “We, um, have a situation-,”

Thorin glanced at you and you grinned standing up, “I should head back. Let you handle this while I show off your gifts.” He chuckled and bowed his head to you in your turn to the door where Balin bowed his head to you as well opening the door for you.

Thorin, “What is the situation?”

Balin sighed, “Dain came to the forges, wanted to see you.”

“How is that a situation?”

Balin, “Word arrived, King Dunne is arriving in two days among the reinforcements from the Southern kingdoms. I believe we might want to share the decision as soon as possible.”

Thorin nodded and let out a sigh, “Alright, let’s go handle this now.” Following Balin to Dain’s apartment.

..

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Thorin let out a deep breath saying, “I heard King Dunne is arriving in two days.”

Dain nodded, “Yes.” His eyes scanned over Thorin curiously. “What of it?”

“What has he told you of the Blacklocks?”

Dain exhaled in a deep growling breath in his drop to settle back into his armchair signaling Thorin to claim his, “Well, according to him King Buarndur swore his lands over to him before Azanulbizar and when they went to claim them the Blaklocks attacked them and burned down those lands and most of the Ironfist’s.”

Thorin’s brows furrowed in confusion, “He has six sons. Why would he swear away their homelands and inheritance?”

Dain shrugged and tilted his head, “I don’t have the foggiest idea. However, I have never put a pound of grain to his words before, thought it mostly boasting at first, and at the time there were supposedly no Blacklocks left, and now there’s thousands-.”

Thorin nodded, “About that. I had a word with Jaqi earlier, in support of her clan and family I am enforcing my stance in that if any Ironfists threaten or dare to harm her or any of her kin they will be punished, and if King Dunne tries anything or so much as insults her I will expel him from my council.”

Dain let out a breath, “Thorin-,”

Thorin leaned in, “I know you are in an odd spot, so am I, I am not asking you to pick sides now, I am saying however, should something occur I need to know if you support me in this.” Dain wet his lips with a timid glance over his face, “My Queen does not feel safe in inviting her younger siblings and mother into my lands.” Dain’s lips parted, “You’ve seen her tattoos, every one of them is from Ironfist clans. Her own men don’t feel comfortable taking shelter in my halls with them arriving. If I do not take her side I am saying she can never see her siblings or mother unless she travels to Elven lands. I have to protect my Queen.”

Dain nodded, “Should a threat occur, you have my support. I would like to hear the full tale from her however. Word enough is no weight to uproot an entire clan. But they do fill a great portion of our lands. It will be a tough stance, but no matter the cost we will defend the Queen and her men.”

…

Daily you would hold your tasks and Thorin would do all he could to get the returning Dwarves settled into jobs and homes reclaiming what had been lost by them and their kin while hearing news of the impending arrival of Kings for the coronation Dis and Diaa were in the throws of planning for the busy King. More and more distractions kept coming up taking your intended from your side to handle the random tasks but two days out as expected you, on the right of Maglor and Maedhros you stood beside Thorin, who made certain to remain close to you. Silently securing your bond was well noticed by the returning Kings traveling with the Ironfists. Eyes fixed firmly on you and your kin through the welcoming greetings until Thorin led the Kings and Lords through the mountain as you turned to join Maglor and your uncle off to Dale again to get as many days work in as you could before the snow.

The new Kings only worsened Thorin’s distraction and at the glares coming from the Ironfist clans you knew it was only a matter of time before it all blew up in front of all the Dwarves. Increasingly the newest beads in your hair seemed to stir up irritations and as publicly as possible Dams were brought in from more ‘respectable’ clans more deserving of Thorin’s attentions than you. Each day the faults of your kin brought up yet without public insult, so far, and each night packed with separate dinners with you alone with the Elves as the Durins got drug into dinner after dinner to mingle with the new Dwarf Lords all far from eager to get to know you in favor of King Dunne.

In his increasing irritation a sneaking set of ease slipped into his day at your confirmed bouts of breaking into the King’s apartment. Small trinkets here and there, snacks and small notes making puns out of the comments and rumors you had heard freeing a chuckle from the sullen Dwarf with a great deal of stress easing his way into a calming few hours with his harp. Softly at first playing the classics but always ending with your shared heartsong, unnoticed until a late pass by chance halting you in place to press your ear against the door hearing his baritone voice singing the Khuzdul verses to the song leaving the Kurdu verses to echo in your head as you turned to your apartment.

Your gifts didn’t go unnoticed and a few stolen chances were taken to head to the forges. The first time you among a trio of your kin were there working at your own stations ignoring the sneers of the others to finish your own tasks between stolen glances at Thorin in his entering the forges. For all his stubbornness and years over you on top of his assumed failure and loss of trust he hoped that even against his unflattering appearance for even the Dams being forced to win him out of his courtship with you that he could impress you with his forging skills. Conveniently choosing a station in full view of yours where, like the other men his shirts were removed and set aside fully exposing all earned markers for their clans and ranks with battle scars abound.

Sight of you seemed to be no less distracting with all the sweaty hairy men pounding hammers into melted iron on their anvils, your hair pulled up in a high bun and vest covering your ribs with loose shirt under it swaying around your toned rippling frame locking many in place more than once between your own stolen chances to watch your future husband in his prior trade. Like yours his hair was pulled up and his steady breaths and motions flexing and relaxing each of his muscles in his solid torso and arms with his intense bright eyes focused on his task all but lulling you into an enchanted trance.

No matter how stubborn or foolish he had been it did nothing to stop the wildfire that trip to the forges sparked for you. Under those moody, biased and ignorant layers of his tough first impressions to get through those bright hopeful eyes between bouts of furious glares and intense stares on top of a pair of arms now haunting your dreams begging to be draped around you with a chest meant for draping yourself across to sleep to the heartbeat of the man promised as yours there was hope deep in your heart you could find happiness with him. After the settling was over and between his busy moments he seemed genuine in his claim to honor your betrothal and protect you, moments growing more random as he began to notice how even with the rumors you were still turning heads and wished to keep you assured his attentions were yours entirely.

.

A rough set of storms were set to roll in and in your focus on your repair job to the main palace in the inner circle became more important to get finished leaving you all but entirely moved in there sharing a cot with your Ada who led the Elves in nightly shifts to keep the repairs going while you and your workers slept. The absence did not go unnoticed by the Durins, all of whom spent a portion of their days to go and drop in to see you hoping you weren’t being chased off. With Bilbo spearheading the cause to have your Maiar and rams to be moved inside Erebor to the farming peaks attached to Dale as the orchards had been successfully starting to bloom under the protective crystal dome.

.

“How dare that clan just assume they can lay claim over Dale!”

A narrowed gaze from Thorin fired from the doorway across the council room in the latest try at planning the seating for the coronation with each of them refusing to sit near the Elves or the Ironfists near your kin. Quietly he listened in to the slew of insults to you especially and your father you were bet to have taken after, the longer he listened the angrier he grew. Finally shouting out, “My Queen can lay claim to any of my lands and you would do best not to insult her!”

All heads turned and King Dunne stood with a laugh, “Oh now Thorin, we all know you are merely following that betrothal out of pity for some old agreement your grandfather made. Why not choose someone more worthy of the title?”

Thorin moved farther into the room to his chair with a pointed glare, “Coming from the Dwarf insisting a King would deprive his six sons from their inheritance by swearing their homeland away on the eve of battle.” His growling tone earning a darkened stare from Dunne, “For any of you wondering on my stance for your imagined claim to the Blacklock rights and lands I am in support of my Queen and her kin,” sharp inhales came from the Ironfists’ whose beards bristled in their rising fury as he continued, “And any issuing threats or injury to any Blacklock will face the consequences for doing so. Any unwilling to follow that is welcome to leave their place on my council.”

Silence filled the hall as Dain smirked stirring up matching reactions from the other clans around the scowling King Dunne who forced a grin then replied, “Now now, we would never issue unjust threats to the young lass.” The spark in his gaze marking his lie unsettling Thorin even more as he mentally planned out his next stolen time with you. He had done all he could to clear his night for another dinner with you to present you with another marker after finding the silver raven figurine you had left in his rooms along with his own agreement to move the creature and you back inside Erebor to be nearer to him.

.

Dis in a deep blue gown strolled through the streets of Dale trading pleased grins to each of the burly men you oversaw bowing their heads respectfully, as they had to all the other Dams, including those forced to fluff themselves up in front of Thorin. Some of the largest Dwarves to be found with none fiercer in defending the safety and respect of the women they encountered. All more than ready to face off with the Ironfists but holding back at your lingering order to not give them any cause to start anything allowing them to make the first move always. Atop your ladder you eyed her entering after finishing hammering in the nails securing the thick wooden frame where the doors your uncle had helped finished carving the night prior would be secured in place.

Steadily you climbed down keeping hold of your box of nails and the hammer you set aside at the base of the ladder. Turning around you locked eyes with the stunning Dam taking in your dust and dirt coated layers as you bowed your head, “Princess Dis.”

A soft sigh left her as she exposed the basket she was holding to say, “Dis, we are going to be sisters you know.”

You chuckled weakly and nodded your head, “Well then dear sister, you should get the tour.”

She chuckled eyeing the front hall you were working in, “It is quite an improvement so far.”

You grinned wider at her gasp at the stunning change from the dusty in progress hall to the empty yet immaculate nest hall leading to a series of refurbished rooms she peered into until you made it to the outer dining hall with open doors leading into a garden still being marked out by the few day shift Elves for the planting in early spring once winter had passed. “Well we have been trying to get it lined up before winter hits fully.”

In awe as she emptied the basket she replied at your washing your hands in the attached bath, “I can see that.”

Out again to claim your chair beside hers you added, “Plus we’ve got most of the inner ring habitable for my men and working our way outwards. A few more serious jobs will have to wait till spring but not many. How is Erebor?”

She grinned easing the juice she poured from a bottle for you in a glass she set out, “It is mostly intact, surprisingly enough, mainly scrubbing except for the farming peaks.”

You nodded lowering your glass from your sip, feeling her eyes taking in your flawless etiquette despite being filthy from working all morning, “Yes, Bilbo suggested we help with that.”

Her grin spread to her eyes that lit up after her own glass was lowered in an attempt for a sip of her own, “Your thoughts?”

“We don’t mind helping. Though breaking the earth-,”

Dis shook her head, “Of course, we would be extending the invitation for your Maiar as well.” Your brow inched up and she chuckled, “We are certain yes. He seems to be quite docile under your care.”

You chuckled, “Docile is one way of putting it.” Looking over the meal she set out you raised your fork she had pulled from the basket, “I suppose he’s no more unruly than most Dwarves, though a lot larger, and he spits fire.”

“I am certain our kin won’t mind once they see how quickly the land flourishes.”

You nodded, “Or we will see how quickly Dunne tries to attack him.”

Dis wet her lips and asked, “What happened between your clans?”

“Two days after learning my Adad fell among nearly all of our warriors they marched on our borders.” Her mouth fell open, “There was no promise, merely Dunne’s greed in crossing our borders for centuries since taking the throne. Some personal slight against my grandfather passed down through our line. We were defenseless, had Maglor not warned us-,”

“You fled? And they burned down your homes in anger?”

You shook your head, “No, we lit those flames. They wanted it, we released its ashes for the taking. Had they not encroached on our borders for so long their lands would have been safe from the flames.”

Her eyes dropped to the lowest portion of your tattoo exposed by your rolled up sleeve wet with sweat, “Forgive me, but, why were you chosen to defend your kin? The only one available when the insults were issued? I understand you have four elder brothers.”

You exhaled and wet your lips and she eyed your sunken gaze at your drink, “I lost my Adad and all four brothers in Azanulbizar.” Parting her lips in a stunned gasp, “I am the eldest of my line. My mother, she is no warrior, my younger brothers were infants when we fled and still too young to defend our line yet. If I turned down the duels the accusers could claim what they wanted whenever they wanted it. No matter the cost to me they will not take anything else from my kin. We will drag them into the flames with us if we have to before they beat us.”

Reaching out her hand folded over yours, “I, have no words. That is awful, such a weight to carry alone.”

“We all have weight to carry.” A smirk eased onto your face, “I see you have a stone’s worth yourself.”

Deepening her grin as her hand smoothed over her belly, “Few months yet. It has been a long four years. The signs show a girl.” She squeaked out and you giggled softly.

Smirking as you raised your fork and said, “Try two.” Her brow inched up, “Hobbits can tell.” Widening her grin, “I suppose some tweaking shall have to be done to the nursery.”

She nodded and you both finished the meal she brought as a breeze filled the room carrying the scent of rain with it, “What is it?”

Your eyes locked and you answered, “You may want to hurry back, smells like rain.”

.

Under the sheets of rain you were safe in the palace again in the music room though this time adjusting the neck of a violin you had found tucked away in a partially crushed case you had been lulling back to perfection. Silently Thorin passed through the doorway leaving his wet cloak on the chair he passed by lost in your enchanting humming of your heart song stirring a grin onto his face at the ease it spread through him. A heavier step than intended ended your song and brought your eyes up to Thorin, who smirked at you and purred, “My apologies.”

Shaking your head you set the violin and the tools aside asking, “Long day or did you just feel like escaping?”

He chuckled nearing you, “Both, and more.”

“Ooh, do tell.”

Grinning wider he replied, “Another long day of arguments over seating arrangements and traded goods and a far from subtle comment on my first choice as King.”

“I take it they still are wary of our union.”

“King Dunne commented that all clans be present at each meeting.”

You giggled, “That can be arranged. Ada is concerned I am not sleeping enough.” Dimming Thorin’s grin, “I am. Just not twelve hours a day.”

“As long as you are sleeping and eating enough. Which brings me here.”

“Dragging me off to bed?”

After a nip at his lip he rumbled back, “I am here to offer you dinner.”

You grinned at him, giggling out, “And just what makes you assume wooing me with woes of the council would achieve for that plan of yours?”

He chuckled and playfully asked, “And how would you have me ask?”

You sighed with your lips pursed in thought for a moment, then replied, “In a foolish way.”

His brow inched up, “Excuse me?”

Standing up you smirked at him, “You heard me. No doubt you have heard it all. ‘Ulterior motive, out for your gold, your lands, your crown’.” His brow inched up at your step closer to him and tap on his chest, “’Sent to seduce you and take all you could ever acquire’.” He chuckled at your next tap on his chest, “Well, they’re half right anyways.”

His brow inched up, purring, “Oh really?”

“I am meant to be a Queen, my entire task is to seduce you, in every way possible, your trust, your patience, to lure your every secret out to be the one you bare yourself to fully. And of course physically, after all, what good is a Queen if she cannot convince her King to bed her in hopes of a son.”

He exhaled and wet his lips at your backwards steps, “Makes sense.”

“And just how am I doing so far?” He chuckled and bit his lip glancing away from you as you giggled at his blush, “Or should I ask what you’re willing to do to earn dinner with me.” A stunned chuckle left him at your teasing smirk when his eyes met yours again seeing the playful glimmer in them, “It has been two weeks nearly since we last ate alone.”

Walking after you he rumbled back, “And just what would this price of yours be?”

“Well, you asked for my place on your arm, and I doubt you have had much practice, so, one dance.”

He chuckled again, “A dance? This is your foolish price?”

His eyes darted up at the rain growing harder you kept stepping backwards towards, “It would have to be in the rain of course.”

“And why is that?”

“Because only fools dance in the rain.” Your head tilted to the side as you passed through the wall of water into the growing shower, “Be foolish with me.” His brow inched up as he stood on the other side of the water, “You were so willing to face a dragon, what is a little rain?” You giggled again then started to hum in the first steps of the dance tilting your head back with eyes closed leaving Thorin eyeing you as he nipped at his lip before he stepped out into the rain.

Surely through a deep inhale he stepped closer to you easing a finger with yours to spin you before forming an arch with your joined fingers in a turn followed by another turn under the arm the other way. Dropping that hold his hands lowered to your hips lifting you effortlessly in another turn, grinning at your giggle; leading into a joint set of steps in your backwards pace on your toes with one of his hands on your back with one of yours extended and the other around the side of his neck for the start of a turn. His free hand would find yours raising it for another arch for your spin before he would lift you again with a chuckle of his own when you were set down and arched back with arms extended on one foot as he turned you through his circle. Again you would straighten to lock hands in another wave of interweaving turns and arm locks between lifts.

Your humming was joined by his between chuckles and giggles as the rain seemed to grow heavier through the flashes of lightning splitting through the sky between earth shaking bouts of thunder stirring chuckles from your father and uncle not far off watching from a covered arch in a tower above you. Both sketching stolen moments along with a few random Elves taking the occasion as inspiration for a personal gift for their Princess. Heavier your clothes grew at the weight of the water and yet your steps didn’t wane, lost in the intimate moment until the hold on his neck shifted into his hair and he dipped just a few inches at your toe top stance to hold your foreheads together in the shared soft gasping turn with lips barely a breath away. No kiss was able to be stolen in your joint refusal to stop the dance, yet another two turns and a lift later and your feet halted at the massive white light causing them to blink upwards and chuckle at the sheet of rain growing harder.

Firmly his palm landed on your back turning you to head back inside where he asked, “Does this mean I have earned supper?”

In a smirk you replied, “I believe I could call it in your favor.”

Making him chuckle and nip at his lip looking you over, “Thank you for granting me such a courtesy.” Making you giggle following him to his cloak and then onto the walk to Erebor.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner went well, though a bit quiet as he got interrupted by a letter and his own personal Raven agitated at the storm’s effect on his feathers. Upright in a closer inspection of the portrait you had been stealing glances at during his reading Thorin’s hand settled on your shoulder only to shift to your upper back at your asking, “I am curious.”

With his eyes on you he hummed back, “Hmm?”

Turning your head to meet his gaze you asked, “Am I what you expected?”

“It is hard to understand just what the circumstances were to bind us together in betrothal, though I would assume Thror and your Adad would be proud.” You nodded forcing your grin to hold as you peered up at the portrait of his family in their younger years again, “Is that not what you meant?”

“My kin’s taste for partners surely meet different criteria than yours.”

“Am I attracted to you?” His lips remained parted in shock at your unexpected question far from ever being necessary to be asked, “Is that what you are asking?”

You nodded and replied, “Those who have shared their opinions to me are greatly biased in my favor.”

He smirked at you after wetting his lips, “I am to be your husband, clearly I am biased in your favor as well.”

“True but you forget you will have to swear honesty to me, and I would prefer to know now just how difficult-,” at your eyes sinking to the floor his hand shifted to cup your cheek snapping your eyes back to his and his deeply adoring gaze glowing in the firelight.

“All I found beautiful before, no, beautiful is not right.” After a pause his thumb stroked your cheek tenderly, “The sun shies away when you show your face.”

With a scoff you rolled your eyes and mumbled, “Stretching-,”

“What am I stretching? I could scarcely remember to breathe seeing you outside Rivendell. I am no prize, however, you will never be in want of security or affection, should you ever wish for it.” After a pause his eyes scanned over your face in your inch closer to him making his heart skip as he swallowed dryly at your timid closing of the distance. A warm breath ghosted across his cheek from you only to leave just as quickly at the knock on the front door to his apartment.

Facing the door you sighed through a disappointed gaze at the door and he wet his lips easing his fingers that had dropped from your cheek to your shoulder along the open neck of your shirt brushing a strip of loose curls over your back. “I would like to show you something.”

“Another present?”

He chuckled easing his hand onto your upper back guiding you through his apartment, “Among part of our courtship, even though it is much later on, you will be granted your own space in my apartment. I have started to decorate it. I doubt this interruption will be quick so please, take your time, look it all over and please let me know what else you would require.”

“I would have assumed a bed would be all I would require.”

He chuckled, “Your quarters here will be fully furnished. I must warn you, if you leave me to my own whims it will end up quite a stunning jumble of whimsy and function.” You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, “I am not known for subtlety.”

A heavy sigh left him and his body turned at the next knock only to halt at your grip on your pinch on his sleeve parting his lips. Inching closer again rapidly you left a timid peck on his cheek stirring a grin onto his face as he turned to claim your hand and raise it to his lips to kiss your knuckles sweetly, “Please, take your time. Humor me a bit and give it a once over, leave as many notes as you prefer. I will see who is trying to tear me away this time.” That last sentence came out in a mumble on his path out to the door after releasing your hand as a scowl formed onto his face in being taken from you once again.

A thorough inspection was done and in the journal left out for improvements he had left for that purpose. Biting your lip remembering his comment earlier you made your way back to your apartment to change once again and climb into bed for a deep sleep.

…

Yet another snag in a repair that should have been completed weeks prior, if not for the bickering brothers in charge, came up tearing him from your side once again. Though in his shifting control onto a more tolerable and reliable pair from the Iron Hills his eyes traveled to another group of passing Dwarves trying to imply that had you truly cared for this kingdom at all your men would have moved inside and aided with the repairs instead of taking hold of Dale without permission. Far from there you turned to your early morning tasks to head out for the task of escorting the Maiar inside Erebor to the peaks needing his help.

Agonizingly you and your men toiled behind the Maiar both burning and stamping at the earth to help you split and turn it. Weeks end had rows of seeds planted to be encouraged by the Maiar and Elves around you to split through the dirt for a great number of tiny green stalks topped by small leaves reaching for the light through the enchanted ceiling. More and more Dwarves shared whispers about your distracted place in the Kingdom while others seemed to urge the King from your side only to have him plotting secret paths to sneak to your side.

In the first start of the markets in the lower levels of Erebor you eyed the first stalls being filled with the profits of your men’s hard work. Beside the Elf King, who had just come from a stop in to try for a trade deal with Thorin, you strolled through the vast hall hearing hints of the taps of hooves signaling the curious Maiar had come to peek in on things to sate his bubling curiosity. Though over that was the sound of hushed plotting chatter from the approaching Ironfists.

On your right, straight in the view of Thorin and Dain in their paths to you, the sneering clan stood in full number ahead of you as the second in command straightened up. “King Dain might have forgiven your comments though our kin are not so timid on the slights your kind have bestowed upon us.”

“And what slight might this be to have you all approaching me like this?”

His brows furrowed at the twitch of his upper lip signaling the other Dwarves away from you recognizing his intentions while newly arrived Vili ushered his pregnant wife and mother in law away from the possible danger. “Clearly your intentions are clear, cozying up to that prancing lot! You and yours have turned your back on our kind and we’re here to right that.”

“Surely that is a weighty goal, severing a lifelong friendship with your disapproval when your words mean nothing.”

At that his eyes darkened and he tossed his ax away that fell loudly in his fumble to unstrap his weapons, “You will pay for that. A duel, now.”

Passing over the daggers tucked in the back of your belt from Thorin to Thranduil, who eyed his men stepping back knowingly to grant you space as your father’s Elves joined them with Maglor and Maedhros both glaring at the clan silently shifting their weapons to others as you stepped forward. “And here I assumed your lecture to go on endlessly.”

The Dwarf now tensing to rise half a foot taller than you and over a foot broader than you with thick fiery hair and beard pulled back into long braids at the flick of your braided ponytail over your shoulder. Lowly he growled, “Enough of your cheek! Now ready yourself!” Raising his curling hands he eyed you in your stoic stance shifting your hands at your sides to urge him into the first move only angering him more.

Behind him his clan, including King Dunne with a devilish grin, urged him on and even in your frozen stance that made Thorin’s fists clench through a low growling exhale beside Dain, now scowling at the King he had warned not to trouble you, egging the man on in his charge.

Motionless you stood until he was barely a foot away, his eyes scanning over you in search of the best place to grab you, your size now stirring uncertainty in his eyes. A grip of his wrist allowed your maneuvering his back to you enabling your hold around his chin you jerked sharply snapping his neck parting the lips of his kin. Heavily you let his body fall to your side holding your gaze on the stunned clan now tipped over the edge into a familiar seething rage.

Narrowing his eyes behind you Thranduil’s hand settled on Legolas’ wrist keeping him from drawing his blades out at the ten Dwarves now charging at you. In the hall cries and shouts pooled together driving out sounds of all else for the Ironfists to stand down from this dishonorable behavior to attack you at all after a clear victory in an honorable duel. The Durins watched along with the other clans, all refusing to step in without the sight of any weapons for fear of worsening things as glances were stolen of the Elves all scowling at the Ironfists now swarming on you while they formed lines at a good space around the mosh it.

Three were easily brought down with quick flicks of your hands snapping more necks on bodies that fell heavily, each final member of each family line killed angered the mob more as they couldn’t manage a single blow on you in your speedy avoiding dance. In the sea of Dwarves a glint of silver stirred a sea of red into the eyes of the clans looking on. King Dunne himself wielded a diamond edged dagger and took your distraction to his advantage, calling out, “Let us see if the betrayal runs blood deep. If you cry out like your pathetic Father and Brothers who dared spurn me!”

Sharply the dagger slammed into your side halting the rage of the Ironfists at your stunned gasp and sudden glare up at the King as he jerked it upright snapping the ribs it had sliced through harshly the moment prior. In the muddle of things your ears rang at the deafening roar that sounded from the outraged Maiar in your struggle to breathe, but in the sea of out crying Dwarves all fell silent at the jet of flames erupting from the mouth of the formerly missed peeking Balrog with wings outstretched in rage burning all Ironfists within sight.

Brightly the flames burned as the scent of burning flesh filled the hall churning the stomachs of all who looked on as their hearts sank. Staggeringly slow Thorin’s heart continued to beat as he watched, what he assumed to be his intended burn alive stirring chilled tears down his cheeks burning hotly at the flames that died all at once.

Blinking rapidly all in the hall drew in a sudden breath seeing you standing safely in the sea of smoking piles of ash and ruined armor. Nearing you quickly through the parted Elves the Balrog knelt with one hand holding you steady through removing the dagger lodged in your ribs with the other as you coughed up blood over his fingers now holding you steady. Your baggy dirt and now ash riddled shirt under the outer vest you unbuttoned was brushed up exposing the gushing wound on your clearly broken ribs. Over your sides more scars from other heinous breaches of conduct in previous duels, the Elves inched closer as the Balrog drew in a breath and exhaled a white flame rippling over your side calming your agony at the mending of your broken ribs and the gash the dagger caused.

Another coughing pause later you straightened up on your own feet and turned to the Balrog to stroke his snout after he transformed again, a couple weak coughs later and he turned after a bump of his snout on your stomach to trot behind the Elves. Your hands moved to your vest with fingers fumbling in search of the first button, painfully you continued to breathe, still feeling the weapon’s effect on your still badly bruised ribs. A shuffling step forward towards your approaching father and uncle your eyes fell on the Elf King’s who looked you over unsteadily and mentally asked after your pain with your answer calming him greatly as you fared better than the last time you had been attacked mid duel.

At once your eyes clamped shut at your father’s lifting you in a tight hug sending another waft of smoke and dirt into the air from your wrinkled layers. Inching closer each Elf inspected you as best they could confirming your safety for themselves while Thranduil stated, “We have brought healing herbs, a bath should assist in your healing.”

His eyes followed Thorin now feet from you at his rush to inspect you for himself. On your feet again you turned giving the King a weak smile, “Thorin,” at his nearing you your hand reached up to wipe his cheeks, “Still breathing.”

Gently his hands settled on your upper arms and his forehead tilted to meet yours, “I-, this-,”

Weakly you chuckled, “I did warn you.” His head drew back and his eyes turned to find the Elves using their daggers to sift through the piles of ash collecting all the beads they would no doubt give to you later while another Elf hurried to send off an eagle usually tasked to follow you when apart from your men since arriving here. Sent off with word of what had happened and to signal your second in command to come to your side.

Dryly Thorin swallowed and said, “Let’s get you up to a healing bath.” At your side he walked with you up to your quarters while Dain breathed steadily and called all his men into his sights. Waiting until you were out of sight to exclaim that those piles of ash are the fates for those who refuse to honor your place as the next Queen and those who dared to challenge you for the fate of the Ironfists would be brought down by his own hands.

…

Warm water bubbled around you at your sinking into the hot spring fed bath while the Elleths around you helped to unravel your long strings of braids. Removing the ribbons with the charred beads knotted into them that were set aside freeing you to ruffle your hair under the waters soon with soaps dribbled over your curls the pair helped you work through and then rinse out. Firmly you scrubbed your skin clean then inched out of the tub to sit on the stool they offered to help dry off and comb through your long curls they helped to weave into the lower half of your hair as you wove Thorin’s braid and bead back into place next to your face through the gentle weaving of the top half of your hair into a long braid mingled with your bead filled lower curls.

Eased into a simple sleeveless white blouse tucked into a fresh pair of pants tucked into a fresh pair of boots you stood eyeing your reflection through securing the belt over your waist as you heard the Durins and other Dwarf Kings filing into your sitting room waiting for you to come out.

Thorin’s eyes turned to your father who said, “Do not worry yourself with promises of this never occurring again.”

Thorin’s brow inched up and Maedhros added, “We have all made that promise, yet the hatred runs deep, and without fail more men in hopes of harming her will scurry up out of their darkened pit.”

Dain, “How long has she been expected to duel their clan?”

Maglor answered, “Her first challenge was at 23.”

All the Dwarves gasped and parroted the number back for Thorin to ask, “What would have them so callously challenging a child?”

Maedhros answered along with his brother, “Unfettered greed.”

Silently the Dwarves sat until your door opened again revealing your second in command holding a sacred bag clearly meant for extending your arm band with the helper for the task beside him. Through the door you passed and all eyes turned to you in your path to the chaise lounge. As per tradition the room was cleared once you laid back, arm extended above your head exposing he strip under your arm now to be filled in fully with the final tally of beads for those you had brought down before the flames. Inhaling deeply your eyes locked with the pair tasked with adding to your markers in the beginning of the traditional hums. A chisel and stick were brought out with ink as well, one painful tap after another you laid there humming and singing the traditional words until a single allowed tear at the end of the ceremony was shed at the smearing of a special cream coated your finished tattoo from your upper arm to just above your elbow.

On your feet again your bare arm slung around your second’s shoulders in a tight hug thanking him for the continued faith. He shared that the repairs were moving on steadily and they were content in remaining in Dale until news had spread on what had occurred to the remaining Ironfists, who no doubt would be coming for their own pound of flesh as well. A hug was also claimed from the elder all too eager to share the completion of the marker on their Queen in his rush back out to Dale before the late rains would fall. Wetting your lips you paused in front of your mirror eyeing your reflection, eyes lingering on Thorin’s bead dangling by your face.

A gentle knock sounded and you turned calling out, “Come in.”

Straight through the door Thorin passed through, sealing it behind himself, in finding you he hummed out, “Princess,”

Sighing softly you lowered your hand from removing his bead and the braid you had undone and turned to him in his inspection of your tattoo only for his eyes to wander to the bead you were holding out to him parting his lips. Instantly his eyes snapped to yours and you said, “I seem to have mangled the braid, would you mind righting it?”

A weak relieved chuckle left him as a grin eased across his face, “Of course.” He inched closer adoring the chance to rebraid your hair, silently wishing he got the chance each time you washed your hair. “Are you in pain?”

A wry chuckle left you inching up his brow, “It is tolerable. No doubt you’ve felt the same with your own markers.” Wetting your lips as you watched him secure the bead at the end of his braid he lowered by your face, “If you imagined me some fair Maiden you will be sadly mistaken. I am riddled with scars and shaped by the weight of all that rests on me. I am far from what is worthy of stirring sonnets in my honor on appearances alone.”

He chuckles weakly, “In that you are mistaken. You unfortunately are bound to one as unprepossessing as me.”

You smirk at him, “Then I suppose it is in your favor that I was raised by Elves and Hobbits. I am not so vain to expect the pinnacle of Dwarven beauty.”

“I am unbeautiful to you then?” He teased.

Giving him a playful glare back you answer, “To some of your kin I would assume.”

Lowly he asks, “My kin? I can see why you would feel detached from us.”

“I am,” You sigh, “I was a child, I know the words, the motions but I could have you reciting Kurdu and you would no sooner grasp the weight of those words than I could tear a mighty oak from the ground with one hand.” He steps closer to you, “I am a farce. I carry the weight of my people who feel half stranger to me. They love me, respect and honor me and still I feel like an outsider. One foot in two worlds with my other on a third, my brothers are far more dwarfly.”

“Well I will not be moving our union onto them.” He joked making you roll your eyes and start to turn away only for his hand to settle on your shoulder, “Please, do not misunderstand me. I feel the same. I am King, and yet for all the trouble of bringing my kin home I would sooner take up a smithing stall than that throne for my worthiness. When I am smithing I know the rules. The goal, and I charge after it and pound that shapeless metal into place. You have courage far greater than I to stand so fiery against all.”

“Those men stole my home from me.” Thorins lips part, “They spout off how those fires took half of their lands and yet they forget why those fires were lit in the first place. We would rather our home burn to cinders than grant those mongrels shelter once it was stolen from us.”

“They stole it?”

You scoff, “We lost, countless, nearly all our men were gone and not two days since word had returned on wing those thieves marched their home guard on our borders!” Fire began to stir in Thorins belly and his eyes darkened as yours did, “We were children and defenseless. Had it not been for my Ada my kin would have been destroyed and those allowed to survive, too broken to ever find peace again. And since that day they stole the last of what we had of our lost kin, they have greedily come begging and demanding more and satisfaction for a slight they triggered! I am fiery because fire has shaped me into this force. I am not bound by blood to High King Feanor, though I am fabled by Elves to have earned his fire.”

“I will never side with the Ironfists if it ever means harm to your kin, those remaining will bend to my rule or they will be banished. I have very little to offer you in means of strength past that. Your arms and numbers are far greater than mine.”

You sigh, “There is a matter of discussion in need of discussion before any marriage.”

“That would be?”

“Moria.” He nods, “Your kin will be allowed to pass through or even dwell there, however, even in marriage I cannot pass rule over to you.”

He inhales sharply then calmly asks, “And why would that be?”

“Because any who have been taken as threatening to my rule there have stirred the Balrog from our Maiar.”

“I don’t-.”

“When we found Moria open, and we charged inside l saw that Balrog, and as soon as he saw me, he turned to charge at the orcs after naming me Perian.”

“Perian?”

“It means haffling.” He nods and smirks, “His horns are coated in Yavanna’s runes and it seems she hid away reminders for her husbands children to not grow too greedy.” Thorin’s brow inched up, “We were meant to build the earth and spread growth, stability and strength. Yet greed and stubbornness is what we have shown the world.”

He nods, “You would still grant us access? Just to see it, thriving again..”

You chuckle weakly, “Oh it is well past thriving. Nice and lush with innumerable resources even the Elves are envious of thanks to our Hobbit numbers.”

Playfully he quipped, “So it is green then?”

You smirk back at him, “It is green, and pink, and red and blue with yellow and orange. Hourly on the breeze the scent changes telling you what is being picked. It is so much more than green, it is alive. Exactly what we hope to turn Dale into, so much more than it ever was.”

“I wanted to ask, I am having a dinner set up, I was hoping I could convince you to join me. It is meant as a way to fulfill my task of earning a conversation with your father, as per tradition.”

You chuckled and settled your hand on his shoulder, “Then you should go ask him. I wanted to thank Thranduil for his herbs, he does worry so each time my tattoo grows.”

Looking you over he asked, “He dotes on you like this always?”

Again you chuckled guiding him to the door, “All the Elf Lords do. Ada brought me home to Rivendell and we have been treasured ever since, the youngest Princes and Princesses.”

He gave you another smile and off you went. Ignoring your lingering pain, you sent out grins to all who bowed their heads to you on your way to the main hall where Thranduil was waiting for you, a grin spreading onto his face at seeing you up and about. A flash of your tattoo later and he bowed his head promising to see you as soon as he could, with shared hopes that you could convince Thorin to agree to trade sooner than later so he could spend more time with you. The closeness of your kingdoms stinging all the greater without time to spend near you.

..

Dinner bled into the sending off of letters and off you were back into your normal schedules with Thorin still off searching for where you might be. Small snacks and stolen lunches littered with small tokens were exchanged between those you had left surprising him in return. Meetings stretched on and in the next string of Dwarves arriving came another sea of Ironfists. Tensions were high and at the end of Thorin’s tether after one more three hour long meeting with ample stolen jabs at Thorin for all of his choices and more importantly his bond to you and the so called beast you ruled over able to kill you all if not sated by you.

Through his apartment he strode only to groan under his breath at the sight of you leaving another gift he had yet to meet with one in return. The noise turned you around and in a low growl he grumbled out, “Of course, of course I return with another challenge of affection on my table.”

Your brow inched up and at the sound of voices growing in the hall, no doubt following after the King who just wished for a moments peace alone. He puffed up, “I do not have time for this!”

Abruptly he raked his eyes over you taking in each detail of your heavily embroidered long skirt and corseted vest over another blouse hugging you perfectly with a thick belt around your synched waist. But he had no time to admire you, not with his pounding headache, and his heartbreaking world weighing harshly down on him after the arriving masses began to grow by the day. On his path back to the door stabbing himself deeper in the chest he barked at you, “Yet another failure, lovely, if I don’t seem up to your standards as well it might be best if you right the mistake and set your men to march homewards!”

Narrowing your eyes at his back you inhaled sharply biting your tongue as he tore his door open making the Dwarves on the other side of it leap back as he shouted out, “WHAT?!” The door slammed loudly behind him and you huffed leaving the chocolates you had brought on the table along with the sentimental note you were tempted to tear up along with the included offer for dinner.

Huffing to yourself you made your way down to the main hall again, the Elven numbers had all moved to Dale this morning to help with the final touches on the palace inside and you were keen to join them. Trotting down the final steps between you and the gate far behind your inner storm was another storm brewing from Dis herself who had heard Thorin’s exit and spotted yours right after. It was clear Thorin was struggling to gain the approval of the new head of the Ironfists, even against the support of all the other clans having witnessed your attack, yet still they dug in making trouble where they could. Behind you the Durin Princess huffed up her own storm following to catch up.

Out through the gates you walked past the Dwarves on watch grateful for the slap of cold air to excuse the pinking of your cheeks in the struggle against your tears fighting your own mental barrage of doubts. The sound of dirt crunching under loud hooves halted you in place. Turning around you spotted Dis, panting atop the cart being pulled by a pair of battle rams nearly to the gates of Dale. Exhaling lowly you bowed your head to her only for her to burst out saying, “Thorin did not mean it!”

You shook your head, “Oh I know that.” You sighed smoothing a strip of your hair from across your face behind your ear, “Really you shouldn’t have troubled yourself. Being out in the open and all that carrying his youngest heirs.”

Her brow inched up and she shifted on her seat to face you more, “I came to ensure you understand he is merely stressed.”

“I understand. These ears of mine hear a greater deal of echoes of all that is spoken against me here.”

“It will calm.”

Another sigh left you and you stated, “It always does, and no doubt Thorin will calm down once he’s tackled one or two of the men troubling him so.”

Dis chuckled and nodded, “Perhaps I could get Dwalin to offer a bout of wrestling to calm him a bit. The both of them have been a bit tense lately.”

“And surely after the coronation it will calm even more. Without Dunne they can’t hold that hot air forever.”

“Bound to run out of sons in any case as it is, Dain sent word to his lands in your support. Any other attack would not be allowed.”

A rumble from above drew your eyes upwards to the swirling clouds not from any sort of natural storm. The horn in the distance stirred your heart to pound as your hand found the belt around your middle, “Get back to Erebor.”

Dis, “Get on!”

Howls split the air and you ordered in Elvish to the rams, _“Get back to the Mountain!”_

At once they turned and bolted for Erebor as you pulled back your belt revealing the split in your skirt you threw over the back of her cart leaving you in the leggings and boots hanging under the lower half of your blouse under the base of your corseted vest. Turning away from Dale at the sight of the wargs charging towards Dis you raced off drawing them off the pregnant Dam’s path. A lean down brought a hidden pair of blades from your boots into the sights of the Dwarves shouting atop the overlook to send for Thorin and to open the gates to defend Dis, who all fell silent at the black arrow slamming hard into your back.

Heavily you fell forward with a groan and scrambled to your feet to start running again. A snap of jaws on your left ended with a single swing of your blade decapitating the warg whose body flipped ending his rider flying. Racing on as fast as you could a roar sounded behind you at your Balrog leaping into the sky towards the Nazgul soaring after you. A heavy slam into the earth in their wrestling battle sent you to your knees again at the second arrow slamming into your back. Groaning in pain you turned taking out three more of the wargs while more raced over the distant hills with a sea of goblins after them. Swinging your blade again you beheaded one of the orcs only to be tackled by another.

The snap of the arrows in your back in your fall onto your back had you crying out in pain while an orc scrambling to climb out from under its warg slammed his dagger deep into your thigh. Twisting the blade in your hand it planted firmly into the beast’s skull easing your pained turn over to hop up and race for the woods again doing your best to ignore the blade in your thigh you knew better than to remove just yet.

A final death blow to the nazgul was followed by a jet of flames killing more than half of the wargs and sending the others racing faster into the woods. Loud roars echoed through the plains and into the forest at the Balrog’s taking on the army surging towards Erebor and Dale now leaping to take up arms and defend the borders from the stragglers not taken out by the flame spitting Balrog.

Panting heavily you stumbled through the twisting roots avoiding more and more arrows from the few surviving orcs behind you. At once the forest seemed to shift and your hand planted on the trunk of a tree you ducked behind, with eyes rolling back your knees buckled and a firm arm circled you drawing you into the chest attached. A tug on a dangling rope later and you were lifted up into the winding paths of branches in a race to the palace far out of reach from any foe.

Loudly gasps sounded all the way to the Healing Wing that was thrown open for you as the King and his billowing robes chased after. A calming breath was released at the loosening of the laces on your top, which when removed took the arrows with it, thanks to the armored layer inside of the corset matching the one in your cumbersome skirt in the back of Dis’ cart traditional to the fighting Noblewomen of your clan. Small cuts were all you bore on your back from the force of the snapped arrows in your fall, leaving them to focus on the simple task of removing the dagger in your thigh and then healing the cut after.


	6. Chapter 6

**“What happened?!”** Thorin called out seeing the skirt settling on the back of his sister’s cart spiking his heart even faster.

Dis was helped to her feet stating as the soldiers rushed to the open gates, **“I was speaking with Princess Jaqiearae.”**

Thorin’s eyes rose to the overlook at a shout that you had taken another arrow dying under the roars of the Balrog and wall of flames seen through the open gates. **“Why did you leave her?”** He could barely whisper.

To which she answered, **“Leave her? She ordered the rams to turn and run! I tried to get her onto the cart.”**

 **“The Princess made it to the forest!”** was heard from up above making Thorin sigh that you were at least under the care of the Elf King who would never see you harmed.

Thorin settled his hands on Dis’ shoulders, **“Get yourself upstairs, you should not have left.”**

Dis narrowed her eyes pushing him away from the others to lowly snap back, **“And you should not have told her what you had.”** At that Thorin halted remembering what he had said with lips parted realizing now that those arrows you had taken were directly caused by his words urging you away from him. Dis gripped his shoulder shaking him from his thoughts, **“She seemed quite understanding, only needing some air perhaps. Though she did not say why, specifically, she had left Erebor…”**

Thorin closed his eyes for a moment lowly rumbling, **“I should not have said that. I just wanted a moment alone. It has been nonstop-.”**

Dis nodded, **“And just when has the Princess confronted you as they have?”** Shifting on his feet he scanned his eyes over his sister’s face, **“Even against her settling into this union such a short time ago, when has she been anything but supportive. Just to spite your temper on a few occasions she has been the source behind your sucess.”** Thorin exhaled and she pressed her hand to his arm still resting on hers, **“Next time, stew and rant in the room but don’t go channeling it at her. Vili and I do the same. Shout and rant at who makes us upset, we stew together and work it out, together. She is going to be your Queen, you wanted space I am guessing she gave you space, though throw yourself at the bed next time, or even wrestle with Dwalin if you have to unwind until you’re wed then no doubt she can knock you around if you like.”**

Thorin rolled his eyes, **“I am not wrestling-,”**

She gave him a challenging glare, **“How little you pay attention, Amad conceived Frerin after a wrestling bout with Adad.”**

Making Thorin roll his eyes and chuckle, **“Surely-,”**

Dis nodded, **“Of course, you should be terrified.”** Making his brow inch up, **“After how easily she handled those men single handedly, even as half Hobbit no doubt you should be terrified you would not be able to match half of her.”** His eyes narrowed at her challenge, **“No doubt any child of hers would be fearsome indeed.”**

 **“No doubt.”** He sighed, **“Get some rest. Relax. I will write to Thranduil.”**

…

_“You are doing this on purpose.”_

Thranduil nodded as he fluffed up your pillow again under your wrapped thigh before moving to draw the covers up over your legs again, _“Doing what?”_

 _“That is the third message from Erebor_.” Your hand pointing to the pile of messages he set aside to dote on you.

_“I am ensuring you are comfortable. Maglor has returned to Rivendell and even Maedhros agrees with me to see to your comfort first before answering those notes.”_

Maedhros entered the room again with a tray resting on his palm, _“One lunch for our little Princess.”_

A deep sigh left you as you had the tray set on your lap with napkin set aside to draw out the spoon for the soup you would dip the grilled cheese sandwiches into between sips of the juice they had brought you. _“Please write them something.”_

Thranduil sighed replying, _“I will inform him you are being seen to by our best healers.”_

At his back you called out, _“You will have to learn to get along eventually.”_

Thranduil smirked as he replied, _“I will when he does.”_

Making you roll your eyes then look to Maedhros as he smoothed the full spoon against the rim of the bowl propped on his curled leg he then held over the napkin resting on his severed forearm moving closer to your lips, _“Now, eat.”_

 _“I can feed-,”_ between your lips he slipped the spoon in your lips folded around to claim the soup in the tilt of the spoon he drew out to fill again smiling at your narrowed gaze.

_“I know, Thorin will get his message and calm when he hears of your safety, for now, eat and rest little one.”_

.

“Bedrest,” Thorin turned to his family around the breakfast table. “They have her on bedrest and are refusing to move her.”

Frerin, “Then by all means, if they won’t move the forest then the mountain must move.”

Thorin glared at him and Frerin smirked back, Dis broke their deadlock saying, “He has a point.”

Thorin, “I am King-,”

Dis, “Yes, and if you do not go to your Queen’s side there will be a revolt on your hands.”

Thorin, “Who would revolt?”

Dwalin raised his hand at the same time as the other men in the Company around Bilbo with both hands raised by Fili and Kili. Dwalin grinned at Thorin, “Love you cousin, but go to your Queen or I’ll bend every ear I can making this past month look like a picnic.”

Thorin exhaled then looked to Bilbo, who tugged his wrists free and said, “Besides, with the both of you there you might be able to work out that trade agreement.”

Thorin, “And just how do you imagine I could make that work? I doubt he would have me back again.”

Frerin’s smirk deepened, “I doubt he would have little say in the matter.”

Stirring a smirk onto Thorin’s face as Dis nodded saying, “The Elves all do dote on her so. No doubt if she wanted you there they would have to give in.”

.

Brow raised and lips pursed in reading the latest message from Erebor King Thranduil sat resting against the post at the foot of your bed and let out a sigh stating when his eyes met yours, _“Thorin has requested a stay in my halls to be near you.”_ Carefully he examined your expression for any hint of a reaction you might be concealing to cover your true feelings for the King.

_“Your answer?”_

Challenging you he asked, _“What should my answer be?”_

You rolled your eyes, _“Someone has to be the bigger person.”_ Thranduil’s brow twitched up at your choice in words, _“It gets us nothing to continue a feud between our races.”_

A deep sigh left him and he turned to claim the tray waiting there with parchment and a pen he had taken from you to encourage your resting instead of digging through the offered changes to the former trade agreement. _“I will allow him a stay then.”_ A smirk eased across his lips, _“If only to extend your stay in my halls over his.”_

Rolling your eyes again you slumped into your pile of pillows seeing the next helping of food your uncle had prepared for you, saying, _“Good news, I found a recipe for some of that dressing you enjoy. Light salad for you while your pasta dish is cooking.”_

_“Keep this up and you might succeed in making me more temptingly plump for the other clans.”_

Meadhros’ eyes narrowed at you in a challenging once over you, _“Any Dwarf who is not enamored by you at first glance is deeply mad by my standards. Utter perfection you are, little one.”_

..

Wide open the gates sat welcoming Thorin alone through them. The absence of a guard stirred up a great deal of questions though again at the foot of the Throne while his things were transferred up to his guest apartment Thranduil stated in his turn from the departing Elleth he was formerly speaking with, “Welcome back, King Thorin.”

Thorin nodded curtly, “I understand my place here must be quite troubling for you.”

Thranduil’s chin shifted from side to side in an aloof rejection, “No trouble at all. Whether you flee again or not Princess Jaqiearae is safely within my halls. A mark in my favor. You are the one requiring to seek some comfort within these halls. I am surprised however that you have ventured here alone.”

Thorin inhaled steadily then replied, “I have come to win the favor and trust of my betrothed. Why should I bring a full guard and my relatives in that case?”

Thranduil chuckled and turned towards the door, “Then by all means, I shall escort you to pay a visit to our Princess.”

Curiously looking him over Thorin joined the Elf King on the path towards the opening double doors. “Is it expected to be a long recovery?”

Thranduil peered down at him in their first turn, “Eager to flee already?”

Thorin shook his head, “Not at all. Though as my future Queen Jaqiearae has an important role in my coronation. If she is unable to attend-,”

Thranduil, “It is planned for the end of the month, correct?”

Thorin nodded, “It must be under the proper moon form, so, yes.”

Thranduil, “And what are her tasks?”

“Mainly to be at my side and to aid in opening the celebratory festivals after with a dance to signal the beginning of our rule together.”

“Hmm.”

Thorin glanced up at the now forward facing Elf King, “Hmm? What is puzzling about that?”

Thranduil glanced at him again and shook his head, “No, merely I am wondering how we will dress her for the occasion.”

“She would not wear Blacklock fashion?”

Thranduil chuckled lowly, “Their kin’s fashions have evolved over the decades. In the short time our kin will work together to dress our young Queen.”

Thorin, “Your, Queen?”

Thranduil smirked replying without a glance, “Just like her Naneth Jaqiearae will be greatly treasured as the second Queen among our kin. So yes, our. All that holds her back from the title now is age, a couple more decades and she will be a Queen in her own right.”

..

Lavish yet homey your apartment was set up with the wafting scent of your dinner cooking in the oven. Straight to your sitting room he was taken finding you lounging against a trio of massive pillows, leg propped up on another under a thick blanket while you tossed and caught a ball above your head. A final catch at the gentle knock on the open doorway had you turning to set the ball by your chaise in a basket filled with distractions for you. Thranduil turned saying, “I have to see to something. I will be back shortly.”

You nodded at the tip of his head to you, “Of course.”

In his absence Thorin moved closer to you asking, **“Are you in pain?”**

You sighed, **“Not you too.”** His brow inched up and you patted your hand on the padded stool by your legs he eagerly claimed and scooted closer to you with hand extended to cradle the one granting him the welcoming pat. **“Between Thranduil, Legolas and my uncle I have been babied enough for half a lifetime. You will speak to me as if I was never injured.”**

A weak chuckle left him and he wet his lips, **“I do have to ask, I was told three arrows hit you?”**

You chuckled weakly, **“My corset was armored,”** his brow inched up, **“Blacklock fashion, Noblewomen bearing arms wear armored gowns with skirts that break away.”** An impressed glimmer flashed in his eyes, **“The arrows hit my back. However, I was tackled and stabbed by an orc. Nothing past a painful bruise now with all the potions and healing baths after our Maiar arrived here to mend the most of it. How is Dis?”**

 **“Furious. With me, mostly.”** He sighed and scooted closer to you folding his other hand around yours, **“What I said-,”**

**“You were upset. Did you like the sweets?”**

An awkward grin split across his lips, **“They were delicious, thank you.”** His expression dipped to remorse again, **“I owe you an immense apology. I can never take those words back-..”**

 **“Thorin, you told me if I did not find you up to my standards I should take my men and leave. What sort of insult is that?”** The corner of his mouth quirked up again at your smirk, **“More of a recitation of my escape clause to our betrothal. No insult in sight. Truly I bet my younger siblings could offer worse than that.”**

 **“True.”** The adoring glint in his eyes flickered out again at your next soft chuckle.

**“What was it then? More irritations over the coronation?”**

Thorin shook his head, **“No. The seating is all arranged, now just a matter of gathering all needed from the other kingdoms. That is mended now.”**

Your brow inched up, **“Dale is mostly repaired, Erebor as well. The growing peaks are near their first harvest in a few days. I fail to see the problem, unless it all is to do with me still.”**

He shook his head, **“No, not at all. In fact everyone has fallen for you entirely and is irrevocably terrified of their new Queen.”**

**“I will try to find that as a compliment.”**

A weak chuckle left him and he continued, **“It is, in the most respectful of ways. Next to no one fears me.”**

**“I doubt you would want to rule by fear.”**

**“I do not. Though, after Thror, to win them all over-,”**

**“Ah, the Mad King aspect.”** He nodded easing his fingers around your hand between his to soothe himself in trying to memorize the piece of you he was allowed to touch. **“What is the main issue?”**

**“Stability.”**

Your head tilted to the side, **“That comes in time. Waiting game mostly. No doubt by your second harvest they will ease seeing the surplus of food.”**

He nodded humming back, **“Food does help.”**

**“What else?”**

**“We nearly handled all the housing, transfer of lost goods and shops. A great deal of locks have to be matched to spare keys we found to inventory all left behind. With balances of the fortunes left behind.”**

**“Another waiting game.”**

He nodded again and said, **“All that is left is the trade between us and Esgaroth, which is demanding all that was stolen from their treasure hoards with no inventory of what was taken, plus, our trade with King Thranduil.”**

 **“In the latter at least, I can help.”** Turning aside you used your free hand to draw out your journal you had been given upon your bed rest you had been collecting all the details in for your trade deal between the Kings urging him to scoot closer to your side as you shared what you had so far.

…

On the other stool on your right Thranduil listened to your suggested ideas while the pair of Kings rambled on about how each of their councils would object to nearly all of them. Smoothing your hands over your face you groaned and said, “Here is what we will do then.” Their brows inched up as Maedhros smirked in his entrance to the room to escort you into the dinner he had prepared for you all. “Thorin, summon your council, and Thranduil, you have yours gather tomorrow morning. I will take you each one issue at a time until we have this matter settled. Clearly that is what it will take to get to a solid deal.”

Thranduil nodded his head while Thorin accepted the offer as a chance for his council to see you working together for the security of your future in Erebor and peace between the two kingdoms. Through the dinner plans were shared for the short stay Thorin would remain in the Elven Kingdom until Thranduil would be invited with the other Elf Lords to prepare for their welcoming another King among them.

…

Scowls rippled through the meeting with each point you handled, all men unwilling to budge at the start and yet with each argument from you a deal was somehow managed up to the actual transport of goods.

Thirty yards. The deal hit a snag at the meager distance of thirty yards. With arms crossed the Elf Lord stared Thorin’s council down stating, “I will not yield on this. Those trade borders have held for centuries, I refuse to cross those lines no matter the rank of who is demanding.”

With a nod you tapped your fingers on your propped up arm to your chin, “Of course. I am curious however.” His eyes shifted to you after you had wet your lips and shifted to sit up in your chair. “What is the significance of that border?” His brow inched up and your arm dropped, “I merely ask because, it makes me wonder how thirty yards could be so unbearable to you.”

Lord, “Those borders have held for centuries-!”

You nodded, “Yes, and after a flood and a collapsing bridge in need of repair the route had to be realigned.”

Lord, “Surely the trade can wait-!”

Your head tilted to the side, “Why, is this so unbearable to you to shift a single path?”

The Lord drew in a breath and he stated, “We have yielded on every point so far! I helped to build that path, and I will rebuild it myself before I allow the path to be shifted! Neither I or my steeds will add the extra distance to that path.”

Turning your head to the side you locked eyes with Maedros, “One thing to do then. We should lead in the horses.”

The Lord’s brows rose as the Dwarves chuckled through Thranduil’s smirk hearing him say, “What?”

“Surely your steeds will understand, and no matter their own attachment to the path their safety and perhaps with a small bribe of some oats or their favorite fruits. So, again I ask what the importance is to not shift the path for a few months until the repairs are completed?”

Lord, “We should not have to-,”

“So if a tree falls down in the path to your home do you refuse to shift it and simply avoid ever going home again?” The Lord’s lips parted, “If it truly is the distance then should I move the table to that far end of the hall you would be unable to take part, correct?”

Lord, “That is-,”

“Change is difficult. Seasons change, years pass, we lose and must compromise to continue on to tomorrow.”

The Lord’s lip curled and he drew in a deep breath, “I will not cross his borders!”

Your brow inched up and you smirked, “Ah, now we are getting somewhere,” His brow inched up and you looked to Thranduil, “Who owns those lands?”

Thranduil chuckled saying, “Lord Lotus’ cousin Lonri.”

You nodded and looked to the Lord again, “Then you are in agreement for your portion for the route on the agreement, correct?”

He nodded, “Correct.”

You smirked and looked to Thranduil as he told the guard by the door, “Fetch Lord Lonri.” A bow of the head later and he was off soon to the return with the Lord after you had settled an agreement for the amount of the first delivery.

Lord Lonri accepted the open chair pushed up to the table from the wall bowing his head to the King and yourself before sending a glare to his cousin. Looking between them you grinned sharing the terms of the agreement before he glared at his cousin again until you said, “All I am asking for is use of thirty yards of your land for a few months until the original pathway is repaired.”

A nod of his head later and he answered, “Under the term that he and his steeds will not cross my borders. We will trade off control of the wagons and complete the delivery.”

You nodded saying, “Good. Now that we are agreed on these terms we can draft up the final agreement and have it signed.”

Thorin, “Sounds like a good plan.” His eyes landed on you as you propped your chin in your palm shifting to lean against the arm of your chair flashing him a quick grin stirring one on his face in return. “I suppose we should have consulted you in the first place.”

In a glance between the Kings you sighed and shifted again to stretch your arms over your head, “Who knows, perhaps this council could be used to assist in your other dilemma.”

Thorin inhaled deeply then looked to Thranduil as he shifted in his seat rumbling out, “How well do you know the Master?”

Thranduil sighed, “What is he demanding now?”

Thorin, “Apparently the amount of gold Smaug had stolen from Dale returned to them, or him more specifically.”

Thranduil nodded, “Do not yield. His people will not benefit from that gold.”

Gloin beside Thorin smirked along with the other Dwarves in their joint irritation with the Master. Thorin drew in another breath and asked, “Your suggestion then?”

Thranduil’s eyes shifted to you with a grin, “Feed the people,” his eyes shifted to Thorin again, “All you can do. His people are starving, winter will not ease their burden. It is my assumption part of why Dale was a priority of the Blacklock clan was to draw as many tired of the Master’s rule under your rule, so to speak.”

Thorin glanced at you, “This was your plan?”

You shook your head, “Not entirely. Though, it is a pity so see such a place go to waste. Besides, you might not catch it, but on an eastern breeze you can hear the sick and hungry crying out. It may be one of my weaknesses, aiding those with no other means of support.”

He chuckled and gave you another soft gaze ending with one of the Dwarves saying, “Now we are to house the Men as well? The other Kings will not accept that.”

Thorin glanced at him, “We will need bodies to aid in the harvest, besides, they have goods to barter. It could benefit us all.”

Gloin scoffed, “Perhaps then you might have forgotten, the Master still so kindly referring to you as the Mad King!”

Thorin readied to say something only for you to cut him off, “He is no more mad than I am a tortoise.”

Thranduil sighed out, “If anyone can attest to his stability of mind it would be the allegiance of the Blacklocks and their young Queen.”

A glance from you to Maedhros brought him closer to you to rest his hands on the back of your chair to help you to your feet saying, “Now, with the work concluded, lunch is ready and our young Queen is hungry.”

The men rose and chuckled at your being guided around them towards the door with all of them behind you. Chatting among themselves now at ease after your seemingly endless barrage at their arguments they were freed into the garden dining area filled with food. The Elf Lords were soon called away leaving the King and Prince, who relaxed even more in the now semi private time with you. With plates full you all settled into your seats contently, though a question kept lingering in the minds of two Dwarves in particular. Balin and Dwalin shared silent glances until Dwalin cleared his throat, “Princess Jaqiearae, I was wondering, or we were rather, why it would be that your allegiance, specifically, would assure Thorin’s sanity?”

Thranduil drew in a deep breath noting your stiff pause before you lowered your glass from your sip to answer, “Because of what our last alliance with a Mad King cost us.” You glanced at Thorin with a hint of regret in your gaze he silenced with a supportive nod silently pleading with you to continue explaining against any issue he might take personally for what you would say of his family. Looking to the brothers again you continued, “King Thror called for war, and in the wake of Azanulbizar I was left the eldest of my line at the death of my father and four older brothers.”

The Dwarves all sat open mouthed at your loss while Gloin alone managed to ask, “And then the Ironfists swooped in?”

You nodded, “Correct.” Wetting your lips you said, “I was a child Queen, and if not for Thorin’s offer to continue our betrothal I would have had to wait another 20 years nearly to be old enough for my crown.” Looking to Thorin you said, “I do not blame your kin for my loss. Though it did not assist in my convincing mine in our match so easily.”

Gloin, “They object to the union?”

You chuckled saying, “Save for our Hobbit kin barely under 80 is no age to marry.” Easing their concerns and stirring a few chuckles around the table, “But they have settled. Your kin seem to be settling as well, even Dain’s kin seem to as well, though,” their brows inched up, “They mostly are more concerned with best on how many heirs you will have, since my Amad gave my father seven children.”

Thorin chuckled and rumbled back, “I cannot say my Amad has not mentioned it herself.” Stealing another glance over you in the silk blouse with a tight vest over it easing the glimpse of your curves he could only imagine to be more pronounced with motherhood. The thought warmed him up as his mind slipped through the rest of your courtship, especially when you would move in with him, he wedding shortly after. In his flurried daydreams the meal was soon over and you were taken back to your room to rest again at your uncle’s order and he joined his council to the gates to see them off once the freshly written up trade agreement was penned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Use of Lyrics from - Fall On Me - Matteo/Andrea Boccelli

The week seemed to fly by and with the arrival of more Dwarves to Erebor from the Blue Mountains and Iron Hills you sat behind Thorin on his battle ram for the ride back to Erebor. Tenderly his fingers traced over the backs of your hands around his middle through the conversation in crossing the great distance. For you the gates were opened and a greeting round of cheers welcomed you back muffling Thorin’s request for you to swing your leg over the saddle once he had jumped down. A gentle tap on your knee brought your eyes to his and his grin reminded you that you would have to climb down. His hands settled on your hips to hold you steady in the hop down and one hand released you to guide the ram aside with his other to guide you through the welcoming crowds up to the Royal Wing.

But soon enough the cheers died down and the absence of a certain fiery haired King brought about a hurried gathering of the company to greet you with slightly worried expressions. Thorin’s eyes looked over them with his hand fixed around yours at his side, “What happened?”

Bofur wet his lips saying, “Your Amad received word from Iron Hills, the Ironfists took Dain’s mother hostage,” your lips parted and he continued through Thorin’s deepening scowl, “Their new King is demanding you choose. The Queen or they take the kingdom and then march for Erebor.”

Lowly you huffed and turned freeing your hand from Thorin’s to turn back towards the gate. Through the now emptying halls you raced letting out a shrill whistle stirring a rush of hooves and a roar in the distance. Up to the overlook with the company behind you and Thorin struggling to keep up in your turn to sprint up the steps onto the overlook, the flapping of wings halted with your Balrog outside growling lowly ready for whatever you had planned for. A simple leap later and you all were holding onto his back when he took off into the sky heading for Iron Hills.

Behind you just barely over the breeze Kili called out, “Um, what exactly is the plan?”

Glancing back you answered, “No plan. We have a Balrog.”

Fili and Kili glanced at each other while Thorin shifted closer to your side to fold his free hand over yours giving you a comforting glance, silently promising to stand by you come whatever.

Soon enough you were soaring over the legions of Dwarves under Dain’s command marching onwards who peered upwards at the low growl and wings flapping above them. A glimpse of Thorin and the company above them stirred a rallying cry down below stirring the ones on guard at the gates to stare wide eyed at the approaching beast. Crouching down you readied to leap, releasing your grip of the ridge on the shoulder under your feet to grip the hilt of your sword in your boot, around you the company readied their own weapons wondering what you had planned.

Suddenly the Balrog turned and you leapt onto the overlook feet first into the chest of a burly Ironist sending him flying off into the great hall below. Raising your arm you disarmed another in a single swing and spun quickly to bring down another with a hard blow to the face with your armored boot. The men fell rather unmajestically onto the platform on top of the other guards they disarmed and staggered onto their feet to chase you down the steps to the front gates.

“Just another simple lever mechanic, right?” Was shouted by you in your slam straight into the chest of another guard forming lines to block you from advancing anywhere.

Thorin behind you called back blocking a blow of his own, “What?”

“The gates!”

Thorin, “I don’t-,”

Balin shifted to your side taking out a guard of his own, “Yes! Lever mechanic!”

You nodded and giggled at Dwalin’s asking, “Lever-, wait, back in Erebor, Smaug didn’t open the gates, did he?” Cutting the arm off a guard locked with his axe slowly forcing Fili’s joined swords down onto his head, the loss of limb freeing Fili to take out the guard and stab another in the side in his aim to try and kill Ori beside him in a skirmish of his own with Dwalin’s spare ax.

A few minutes was all it took and you were at the gates. Thundering in your chest your heart raced at the advancing rush of Ironfists rallying towards you. Facing forward you quickened your pace to leap and slam hard into the lever sending the stone counterweight rushing up towards the ceiling jolting the gates open revealing the snarling Balrog with allied forces lining up behind him with shields drawn. Open mouthed the Ironfists slid to a stop in your turn as Thorin shouted, **“Stand down and you keep your lives!”**

Scowls stirred across their faces when they saw you reading for the oncoming fight. Lowly beside you Balin asked, “Princess, a question, about the Balrog’s flames-,”

In a glance at him you replied, “He will not hurt Dain’s men. Only the corrupt fall to his flames.”

Turning your head again you eyed the advancing Dwarves urging the Balrog to inhale deeply and let out his first flame. In a rush you led the company through the walls of flames. Dizzy from the heat in the first pass through the men shook their heads and carried on behind you as you listened to Gloin’s directions to where the others must be kept. Hall after hall doors were thrown open and guards taken out as the Balrog roared watching over the allied forces rushing through the halls to free their kin.

Heat filled the mountain and the uncertain frenzy came to an abrupt end with Dain’s body crashing through his mother’s apartment behind his shield signaling the crossbow wielding guards to fire into the line of shields in the hall. The arrows clattered in their ricocheting paths as the crossbows were reloaded. “Unhand my mother you ungrateful SOW!”

On his feet Dain stood in deadlock with the man holding a sword to his bound mother’s throat. Her chin raised proudly with a stern gaze on her son to show she was not afraid reminding him not to act foolishly. King Roune sneered in return responding, “We gave you a choice. You chose wrong!”

His hand gripped the blade tighter readying to slice her throat as you slapped Kili across the face and ducked behind Fili earning a glare from the Prince who then punched his brother. Open mouthed behind you Bifur watched their roughhousing also seen by Dwalin and Balin, who joined Bifur and Bofur in wrestling at the sight of Thorin joining you on a ducking path through the doorway behind Dain. Stunned at the tussle outside Roune shifted on his feet with brows curiously furrowed he missed your crouched path behind a pair of couches where you drew out the daggers Thorin had gifted you. One each in hand you popped up, yours landing in the armed wrist of Roune with Thorin’s hitting the neck of one of the cross bow wielding pair.

At the clatter of the sword hitting the ground signaled former Queen Rin to elbow Roune in the side freeing herself from his grip. With lips parted at the turn of the crossbow wielding guard you hopped over the couch clearing off the solid table behind it shouting, “Rin, Down!” In a single move you raised the table and twisted at her drop to all fours in time for the table to slam heavily into the wide eyed guard.

Your spinning step twisted your foot in the rug nearly sending you onto your back if not for Thorin’s lunge over the couch to grip your belt. A grin eased onto your face at the steadying of your feet to straighten up again at Dain’s charge for Roune. Over the couch Thorin climbed and helped you to untangle your boot and hurry over to Rin and help unbind her. A grin eased onto your lips saying, “Sorry about the shout.”

She shook her head and let out a chuckle over the sound of Dain’s blows and curses on the surviving pair, “Not a problem. I hoped Thorin would show up.” Her eyes shifted to you saying, “Princess Jaqiearae, correct?”

You nodded and helped to straighten her outer vest over her gown then glanced over to Dain who stood panting with blood dripping from his hands in his hurry over to his mother, “Amad!” His forehead tapped to hers and their eyes shut, her hands settled on his chest as his remained off to the side to keep from ruining her gown and fur lined vest. Inching back he asked, “Are you injured?” His eyes dropping to her overly rounded stomach alerting you to his main concern, the miracle children found to be conceived in the last months of his father’s life adding to his two worried younger sisters barely knee high being led by Balin out of their nursery to their mother pouting and afraid until they saw Dain.

She shook her head then turned it to the door at the echoing growl of the Balrog urging you to the door mumbling, “I should check on him.”

Thorin patted Dain’s shoulder saying, “We’ll be back.”

Dain nodded and Rin asked, “What was that?” Folding her arms around the girls passed to her

Hurrying to the door you felt Thorin at your side folding his hand around yours in the path down to the main hall again, passing the Princes being pulled apart by Dwalin and Balin seeing the diversion was no longer needed. A few calming strokes to the snout of your Balrog and again he was in his goat form peering on at all the curious Dwarves gathering there to await word from Dain the threat was over. Bloody and battered you all cleared up the palace taking the bodies remaining to toss into a chasm usually used for orcs and goblins, to be burned like the traitorous trash they had proven to be.

..

In celebration of the battle a hearty supper was fashioned, with cheers and laughter abound, stories were recorded of your feats and the actions of you and Thorin especially shared with all inside while you snuck over to Kili and Fili’s sides to explain and apologize. Though where you expected anger or resentment a compliment on the slap and clever rouse to distract Roune and his men. A break in the celebration did come with a sharp gasp from the Queen rippling a wave of excitement as Dain helped his mother to the midwife’s wing where her suite was already set up for her with attendants eager to assist her.

Startlingly short the labor seemed to come and go, and with a wave of tears another set of twins were unveiled, another daughter and a second son both the picture of health against the stress their mother had faced. Proudly Dain held the pair while she slept, bragging to all of his newest heirs luring the string of Dams who had been hoping to win his favor themselves to grant him a child of his own possibly.

With sunrise came your trip back again meeting with another round of cheers at the news Dain had sent ahead the night before, choosing to remain behind for a week or so to return in time for the coronation. If there was any doubt for your approval by the other clans it now died a quick death, taking doubts for Thorin’s place as King among them in defending the former pregnant Queen alongside you and Dain. Up to your room you went, ready to collapse onto your bed as Thorin did the same once he had stolen a peck on your knuckles.

…

A few days had passed and between more planning and the doting behavior of your uncle and freshly arrived Elf Lords with them. Barely three days to the coronation and the Durins were in a rush to get everything into place giving you ample time enough to finish a coronation gift for Thorin down in the empty forges.

Yet an out of place note on the eve of the big event drew your attention from the emptiness of your apartment. A simple request to meet Thorin in his apartment urged you to quickly bathe and then hurry over to meet him in what time he had to sleep.

An unanswered knock through the muffled echo of a harp playing stirred you to slip inside. Curiously you peaked through each room until you found him in his sitting room by the fire, eyes closed in his strumming the chords. Anxiously hearing him playing your song you wet your lips and felt yourself asking, “Where did you learn that song?”

Those bright blue eyes of his fell on you as a grin split across his face in leaning his harp back up again to stand offering his hand to you welcoming you nearer. “That, is my heartsong. Been echoing around in my head for decades now.” With a chuckle he eyed your simple silver skirt and sleeveless blouse approvingly and then melted into a loving gaze when his eyes met yours again, “I feared I would never hear mine when I was younger. By then Thror had started slipping, and I thought myself lost and alone forever, until I heard our song.”

Just barely your lips parted and he grinned eyeing his bead was missing, “Need me to replace your bead again?” You nodded and he shifted closer reaching up to gather the usual section to weave together and secure with his beads. “I wished to have you stop by to give you something actually.”

Rolling your eyes you playfully quipped back, “I am drowning in gifts at the moment, is it especially necessary tonight?”

He nodded and grinned wider, “If I do not gift you this tonight I cannot, in my right mind, accept my crown to be your future husband if I do not give you this tonight.”

A weak giggle left you and you nodded, “Then by all means, add another no doubt lavish gift to my collection.”

A deep chuckle left him and he turned to the mantle and then back to you again sheepishly passing it over. The simple velvet box snapped open and your mouth dropped open at the necklace of yellow diamonds, square stones on a mithril strand leading down to a larger rectangular stone 1x2 inches, “You-,”

“For our wedding. To match your tiara and hair pins.”

Inhaling shakily you shifted your hand to set the box on the table beside you, feeling the King’s eyes scanning over you trying to decipher just what you were thinking in your silence. Barely a blink later and your arms were thrown around his neck in the planting of your lips onto his. Instantly his hands settled on your sides in his melt around you unwilling to end the kiss, a tilt of his head however had you pulling back abruptly parting his lips with eyes opening worried he had crossed too far. Your arms dropped back and a sharp inhale later your head turned to press your nose against your bicep, a squeak escaped you stirring a wide grin across his face at your withheld sneeze.

Turning to face him again a chuckle escaped him at you timidly met his gaze to explain, “Your mustache went in my nose.”

His hand rose to brush over his mustache then dropped to your hand, humming playfully, “My apologies.” Again his eyes took in each inch of your expression and gentle blush now coating your cheeks in the nerve caused silence from you. Inching closer he chuckled again shifting his hold on your hand while easing his other around your free wrist to rest it on his shoulder in an advancing step bringing him up against you again followed by another guiding you back a step, “Tomorrow is not what I want my mind racing to tonight, be foolish with me. Only fools dance to songs none else can hear.”

Step by step he guided you through the first portion of that same dance from your day in the rain to his steady hum melting into the first verse of your shared song.

_I thought sooner or later_

_The lights up above_

_Will come down in circles and guide me to love_

_But I don't know what's right for me_

_I cannot see straight_

_I've been here too long and I don't want to wait for it_

_Fly like a cannonball, straight to my soul_

_Tear me to pieces_

_And make me feel whole_

_I'm willing to fight for it and carry this weight_

_But with every step_

_I keep questioning what it's true_

A grin eased onto your lips finally hearing that second voice in person from your years of anonymous pining alone in deep Khuzdul calming you on even your worst nights. Each line for him melting him between utter joy and complete embarrassment at performing anything for you alone for the first time, especially something so sacred.

_Fall on me_

_With open arms_

_Fall on me_

_From where you are_

_Fall on me_

_With all your light_

_With all your light_

_With all your light_

Deep in his eyes a glint of fear flashed through them hoping you would join him in singing this song, with a lingering hope you might share the meaning of your own portion. Always having hoped it was something as meaningful as he had dreamed of for having it be secret to him for so long.

**_Soon you will find what your heart wants to know_ **

**_Don’t give up hope for I know you are close_ **

**_And all you have ever dreamed, wished you could ever be_ **

**_Is waiting to find you wherever you go_ **

**_Believe in yourself, every step that you take_ **

**_Know I am smiling with pride every day_ **

**_My love will forever be, stronger than stone_ **

**_Don’t be afraid you are never alone_ **

A set of alternating spins under each other’s arms in shifting circles together filled this next section stirring his grin wider matching yours through stolen glances at one another until the first lift at the end of the spirals. Followed again by the first section of rounds around the room.

_Fall on me_

**_With open arms_ **

_Fall on me_

**_From where you are_ **

_Fall on me_

**_With all your light_ **

**_With all your light_ **

**_With all your light_ **

**_With all your light_ **

_I close my eyes_

_And I'm seeing you everywhere_

_I step outside_

_It's like I'm breathing you in the air_

_I can feel you're there_

More spins and circles followed after yet another lift ending with his forehead tilted to press against yours.

_Fall on me_

**_With open arms_ **

_Fall on me_

**_From where you are_ **

_Fall on me_

_With all your light_

_With all your light_

_With all your light_

Chuckling lowly his hands guided yours to his shoulders again to stroke his fingers slowly up to your shoulders purring, “My Dearest Jaqiearae, if I may ask, what is the Kurdu half of the song?”

Giggling softly you drew your head back to meet his hopeful gaze with a growing smile stirring a deep blush across his cheeks in anticipation, “That, **hulwultarg** ,” (sweet cheeks/beard)

An awkward chuckle left him asking, **“hulwultarg?”**

You nodded and giggle, “Yes,” again he laughed at his blush deepening even more in pride at having earned a pet name from you, “The translation will have to wait until after your coronation.”

A groan left him and he pled, “Please?”

You giggled again easing your arms around his shoulders drawing his eyes to yours and then to your lips at your inching closer again, “Consider it a special gift from me to celebrate.”

Lowly he hummed a breath from your lips, “Special gift?” Though his voice died at your lips meeting his again granting him the chance to slowly ease his arms around your back melting into this next kiss. For a few moments you held the loving kiss then broke it at his first chuckle against your lips, “I suppose I can wait until tomorrow night.”

After another giggle you glanced at the doorway at a firm knock and glanced back to claim another peck on his cheek then slip out of his arms to head to the door. Clearing his throat behind you his hand settled on your lower back following you to the door, bringing the necklace to your attention by folding it in your hand drawing another giggle from you at the peck he stole on your cheek. The door was opened for you and Balin flashed you a bright grin bowing his head to you, “Princess-, I was unaware-,”

You shook your head, “I was just on my way to bed either way. See you tomorrow Balin.”

Balin chuckled seeing Thorin’s love struck longing gaze at your back before Balin drew his gaze saying, “I merely wanted to ensure you were off to bed.”

Again his awkward grin split across his face and Thorin replied, “On my way now. Good night Balin.”

“Good night Cousin.” Easing the door shut on his path out back to his own apartment down the hall.

…

To the T the ceremony went flawlessly even against Thorin’s nerves. All Elven and Dwarf Kings and Lords had come to welcome him to his throne fully as King. How he got to the end of it he was unaware as his focus was spent upon the first sighting of you fully dressed to your station. A black shimmering off the shoulder gown coated in near glowing green embroidered petals coating the gown from two flowers, one on your belly and the other on your back. Your hair was pulled back in a long bead filled braid, a shimmering arched crown seated on top of your head with seven rounded emeralds matching the necklace with seven equally rounded stones dangling across your bare chest and shoulders.

Deep blue robes were tucked under a thick fur Thorin nearly wished to toss away until an approving grin from you was spotted in your section seated beside your father, mother and younger siblings. The stunning show of trust for him and his kin, the two eldest boys the pinnacle of Dwarven beauty. Every inch mirroring your father, tall, broad and sturdy as boulders with pitch black chest length beards matching their long braided back curls under matching shimmering bands around their heads and striking bright green eyes. Both with younger sisters on their knees while you held your baby brother on your lap bouncing him to keep him amused in the silence until the ceremony began.

On the platform held by statues of two massive Dwarves opposite your tiered seating oaths were given and with Gandalf’s aid Thorin was crowned King, greeted with a rousing wave of cheers and applause. Out of the sacred place your family followed the line of Durin out with everyone else to follow suit to the banquet hall to begin the next wave of the celebration. Gladly Maglor claimed your brother from you and kissed your cheek at seeing Thorin eyeing you from across the bare dance floor at the base of a pair of thrones, one etched with a raven and another with an eagle marking it as yours, both stunningly the same size marking you fully as his equal even without your courtship finalized. Inhaling deeply you crossed the floor taking his left hand when offered, to stand on his left through his welcoming speech to his people and visiting Lords.

Elegantly the orchestra began to play signaling Thorin’s first step to guide you into place for your first dance. Weak chuckles came from the pair of you and he whispered, “Not a thing awkward about this.”

Into your first turn you replied, “Oh not at all. I usually insist on at least thirty people watching me.” Making him chuckle again.

An early lift and following set of spins under each other’s arms signaling the other couples of Nobles to step onto the floor to join you. Relaxing in the sea of couples your grins spread in the hushed giggling conversation you shared through the hour of dancing until the feast began after. Seated together in your thrones at the Durin table his hand remained fixed on yours as often as it could. All through the night the celebration bled on, as it should for a proper three day Dwarven spree, yet as your time to rest came up Thorin stole a chance to slip out and escort you himself. Slowly he walked you folding his arm around your back with hand smoothing over your side absently in your continuing giggling conversation halting outside your door.

Anxiously in a lick of his lips he looked you over unwilling to part with you yet. His eyes drooping shut at your hand stroking along his chest between the flaps of his open fur lined cloak. Blinking his eyes open again they settled on yours as you said, “If you have few moments I have a surprise for you.”

He nodded with his grin spreading at your nudge to guide him back towards his apartment. In a low hum he asked, “Where is this surprise?”

“Your apartment. For safe keeping.”

After another chuckle he purred, “When did you manage to sneak into my apartment?”

In a giggle you shook your head making him chuckle again folding his hand around yours tenderly following you to the door he opened for you and then inside towards his sitting room. Straight to the mantle you led him where a grin eased across his lips seeing the folding plaque of etched mithril sitting up against the stone closed. Eagerly he reached out for it admiring the raven etched into the front cover under the arkenstone, releasing your hand he opened it and smiled wider seeing the lyrics to your song etched into it, all surrounded by strands of bluebells formed with soft blue topaz and peridot.

“I had to add in flowers, I know Dwarves do not treasure their meaning, however Hobbits-,” Tearfully reading the translation of your lyrics his free hand cupped your cheek at his lips crashing into yours. Steadily he coiled around you humming contently at your hand stroking along his jaw through his beard.

In a break for air his eyes remained shut with his forehead pressed to yours, “I will treasure this always.” Tilting his head again to claim another kiss ending at the sound of the other Durins returning to bed for the challenges in the morning.

Pulling back your hands rose to wipe his cheeks after he had set it open on the mantle and faced you again, “I should let you sleep.”

Deeply his smile spread across his face as he purred out another request, “Could I pass you my crown tomorrow?”

You nodded and let out a giggle deepening his smile even more with yours, “I would be honored. Personally I cannot wait to see how you fare in the wrestling challenges. So, sleep well.”

Inching closer to you again his palm eased against your cheek humming, “I cannot wait to marry you.”

Another giggle left you as he drew closer asking back, “That eager to wrestle me over your cousins.”

He rolled his eyes and you giggled again, “That is not what I meant.”

“Oh but you will have to eventually.” Spreading a blush across his cheeks, “Why are you blushing?”

A weak chuckle left him at your hands settling on his chest smoothing up around his shoulders, “All in good time.”

“I am not so certain, with Dain’s new siblings and mine here expectations are bubbling.” Again his arms eased around your back, “You will no doubt be pressured to quicken things for another celebration.”

He chuckled again, “I am patient, we can wait until your previously settled dates to deepen our courtship.”

A smirk twisted onto your face stirring one onto his and you nodded, “Alright. We will see just how patient you can be.” Stealing another kiss from him muffling his chuckles that continued in your slipping free of his arms to head to the door, “Good night **hulwultarg**.”

A giggle left you at Dis’ entrance and curious glance between you on your path out, trading a bow of your heads before she looked to Thorin with a creeping smile stirring a groan from him in his path to his bedroom to change for bed with her following after him, soon to be joined by Frerin and their mother. All with assumptions of their own at your private moment and growing hopes for the months ahead. Finally leaving Thorin to his thoughts he settled into bed closing his eyes under his pile of furs repeating the words from your gift in his mind once again as it dawned on him just how long a year can truly stretch stirring an ache in his chest for that far off date when he could fully be yours. It would truly be a testing year, and if he was lucky, he just might be able to bring that date far closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plz let me know what you thought of it. :D


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